Yes Sir.
by Kim The Manipaltive Little Mo
Summary: Winner of the 2002 Green Awards for Most Orginal and Best Villian. Sarah's all grown up and has got problems. One of them is her brother...
1. Default Chapter

Title: No Sir

  


Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster

  


Rating: R for language

  


Archive: Sure, anywhere you want it just let me know where it is. 

  


Feedback: The author is a feedback whore!

  


Summary: A challenge given to me by Norma the Unicorn Lady. It's all her fault. 

  


Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or Sarah or Jareth. I do own the idea of the fighter pilot though. Uh, don't sue me or I might have to kick your ass.

  
A/N: This story has won the 2002 Green Awards for Most Original Story and Best Villian. For more info about them please see geocities.com/green_awards   
  


Chapter One   
  
  
"Williams, pay attention, God damn it! You've been in the SIM for over six hours. What are you planing on doing? Waiting for the ozone just to open to let you in? Do you want to get your ass thrown back to BT?"   
  
Lieutenant Commander Sarah M Williams bristled at the comments that blasted through her ear piece. She took a deep breath and forced her cramped hands to unclench and relax against the flight controls. A few slow blinks of weary eyes, she forced herself to focus on the assortment of red blinking lights on and above her console. This was getting insane. One would almost think that she had never done this before.   
  
Two fingers trailed over her furrowed brow as she shifted one hand over the keyboard, hoping the increase in speed would compensate for the downshift of anti-gravity. It didn't work. Again she heard that grating voice in her ear. "Damn it, Williams, what the fuck are you trying to do? Get your team killed? Why aren't you scrubbing those Abs?"   
  
Ah, yes, those damned un-named abnormals that she never had clearance enough to know what they were. After all, here in this little unnamed corner of NASA, she was only the pilot on a top secret mission. No, nothing important there. And then, then she paid for that small momentary lapse in judgement. Suddenly the red warnings became one constant beacon of crimson, and she felt the simulator lurch into that spiraling crash pattern.   
  
  
"Damn it, God damn it!" A disgusted sigh was issued as she pulled the headset out of her ear and threw it disgruntled against the consul console that now only showed the rolling pattern of red fire. Two fingers were pressed to the bridge of her nose as she heard the swosh of the sliding door and felt the chilled real air that breezed into the hot, enclosed compartment that was the Simulator for the Atlas X-695.   
  
Atlas X-695, the prototype for the new plane that was a joint venture between the US Air force and NASA. Only a certain number of pilots were accepted to be involved, and Sarah had just managed to scrape by to get into it. After all, even if she was a good pilot, she was still only a woman and she wasn't able to even fly in combat yet. And then you add to the fact that she had never even seen it, only flown the SIM, well then, that made it seem as if this thing wasn't even real, even though she had been assured over and over that it was.   
  
"William, what the fuck just happened? I'll tell you what happened, you just managed to kill the whole crew and crash a three billion dollar air craft. Can you handle your shit or not?"   
  
Sarah swallowed before standing up and speaking. "Permission to speak freely, sir." Well, she should have it, after all he was speaking very freely to her.   
  
He stared at her sweaty forehead, the hair that was matted to her skull, and the shake of fatigue that was shivering through the strong muscles in her arms that were hidden under the crumpled blue of her jumpsuit. "You look like hell, Williams. What ya do, break one of them pretty nails?"   
  
Her nails weren't, in fact, pretty, but she knew better then to comment on sexist remarks of the CO. She liked being in the program to too much to mouth off and get kicked out. She knew that General Parr delighted in showing that women didn't belong in the program. He stared at her intently, looking for some sign of her breaking down, flowing into emotion but he didn't see any.   
  
After all, you can't beat the goblin king if all your emotions showed on your face, and our Sarah was a big girl. Almost too big for her breeches.   
  
"Well, then Well then, Williams, go ahead and whine if you feel like whining."   
  
"Excuse me, Sir, but I spent six hours and twenty minutes in the SIM today, and I have noticed that the Abs all move in a counterclockwise motion while the C-fires only move in a clockwise motion. Shouldn't the A-98s fix that?"   
  
For a moment, he just glared at her, his cold, beady blue eyes almost seemed to be rimmed with a state of pearly white shock. He almost seemed to sputter before he spoke. "And do you think a porcupine's quills should go into it's back too?"   
  
"No, Sir, I just think that it would be easier to fly if the weapons system went the right way."   
  
"Flying? Is that what you call the mess of six hours you spent in the SIM? Cause see, I call it bumbling along like an idiot until you crashed and killed everyone and thus destroyed the world..."   
  
She couldn't hold her tongue a minute longer. "Excuse me?! Well, Sir, maybe if you were coaching me as you should be instead of sitting there bitching about having a chick pull the good marks in your program I would be flying better in the SIM!"   
  
And then she knew she had gone too far. She stood there, her chest heaving and her face crimson as she watched him swallow hard and stare right back at her. And then, as if he was seeing her for the first time, he almost leered at her. Then finally a slow, almost-dawning expression was perched upon his port-colored face.   
  
You could almost see the cruelness of the idea cast itself across his face. " Well then, Williams. You know what your problem is? You talk to much. Now get back to scrubbing. You're in the SIM until you destroy 5 level six Ab Migs. Have some fun."   
  
And while Sarah stared at him, her mouth open, he stormed out of the portal and slammed it shut behind him. She swallowed slowly, feeling the familiar lurch of the SIM as it started to go to launch mode. "Oh my god," she whispered. "He cannot keep me locked in here."   
  
But then his voice broke across the dim heat inside the little cockpit. "Oh yeah, baby doll, I can. And unless you believe in magic coming and saving your ass, I'd advice you to sit that pretty ass down in your chair and put the restraints on."   
  
Longing to unleash some of the lower tones of her vocabulary, she slid into the sweat-slicked seat and pulled the black seatbelt over her body before sticking the piece inside her ear and fixing the mic over her cheek. Pulling her mind from auto-anger mode, she started to speak. "Lt. Commander Williams, Sarah code 24601-ACF requesting code launch 365A2174. Launch to commence in twenty, nineteen..."   
  
And then the voice of Hecter, the assistant in command who sounded just as tired as Sarah herself did. "Copy that, Williams. Proceed with launch 365A22174 on my mark, in five, four, three two, one. Mark."   
  
And with that, the slow burn of the thrusters started and Sarah was pulled into the clouds and then beyond almost amongst the stars. And there, in a flash of yellow and green lights mixed with black buttons, she felt at home. Almost as if she was a bird. A snow white owl cast against a ebony sky.   
  
___________________________________________________________________________   
  
The snow white owl flew against the starlit Alaskan sky, the chilled winter air sweeping through his soft flight feathers. The light of the full moon was reflected in the deep snow below, making the whole world seem as if it was carved from the filings of a crystal. The deep reflective eyes of the owl almost seemed to be half-closed in thought as he flittered through the sky.   
  
And then, almost as if it feared being late, the owl turned towards the moon and flew almost directly into it. Moving closer and closer until it was a speck and nothing more.   
  
The doorbell rang at exactly eight o'clock and the man stood standing stood there, looking as immaculate as ever in his black leather jacket and ironed designer jeans. He graced the older woman who opened the door with that oh-so- arrogant smile which sent the lady into a slow fit of delicious shivers. " Well hello, Alex. It's so wonderful to see you again. I'm glad Lee could convince you to watch Lucas on such short notice."   
  
The man who was, at this moment, called Alex spoke softly, in that unobtrusive English manner, his gloved hands working inside one another. "It's no problem at all, Mrs. Buchanon. After all, Lee does need to speak to Lucas's daddy when he's in town. Has Lucas seen him yet?"   
  
The distaste on Rosa Buchanon's face spoke volumes as she let him inside the house. "Well, Alex, you know how keen I am on family, but at this point, I firmly believe that man should be kept forever out of the boy's life. You know I ain't the type of woman to be a busy = body, but I gotta call things like I see them, and that man is a no-good, arrogant pig. He'll be gone again when the sun comes up, you mark my words. And then the boy will be left as hurt as he always his, bless his little heart."   
  
"Yes, I know how you feel, but this time he won't be left alone. He'll have me. I'll always look after the little tyke, and Lee too, if she'd let me." And with that the tow head fell forward, those cold blue eyes cast down as he thought about her. Or at least that's what Rosa thought.   
  
"Yeah, I know, love. Come on in and have a cup of coffee. I've even got a batch of the peach cobbler you liked so much and said reminded you of home."   
  
Reminded him of home? It sure did. Just the sound of the word brought back pictures of lovely peach trees cast so neatly in a row. Inwardly he would have groaned, that is if he didn't have a mission to take care of first. This was one of those business-before-pleasure trips, but Jareth was certain if he tried hard enough, he could mingle the two. After all, Lee wasn't hopelessly ugly. It wasn't her fault she had screwed the wrong man and now had the object that Jareth had been looking for over twenty years.   
  
But then again, the child of the brother of the girl who had denied him was something worth waiting for. An heir and leverage all rolled up in the body of a four-year-old little boy. And all the pieces were falling right into place... 


	2. Chapters Two, three, four and five

Title: No Sir

  
  


Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster

  
  


Rating: R for language

  
  


Archive: Sure, anywhere you want it just let me know where it is. 

  
  


Feedback: The author is a feedback whore!

  
  


Summary: A challenge given to me by Norma the Unicorn Lady. It's all her fault. 

  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or Sarah or Jareth. I do own the idea of the fighter pilot though. Uh, don't sue me or I might have to kick your ass.

  
  


Chapter Two   
  
Lee Buchanon looked in the old, gilded mirror that hung above the battered dresser. A slow sigh was made as she stared at the reflection which seemed to fit right in amongst the dullness that surrounded her. And to think, she used to be one of the prettiest little girls in Sunset. But she wasn't anymore. No one would ever mistake her for the prom queen again. At twenty she looked nearly double that. The years and abuse of being alone had certainly marked her flesh. And then again, there wasn't even the mention of raising Lucas herself.   
  
At four, he had already pulled her through more things then a normal teenager would have. But then again, Lucas was no normal child. One only had to look at the impish twinge that settled in those blue eyes. Blue eyes that so matched HIS. A little cry was made as she felt her knees give way, sending her plummeting straight onto the bed. A tear welled up in her eye and she brushed at in it angrily, not wanting that outward showing of emotion.   
  
Long ago she had promised herself that he would never be the cause of another one of her tears.   
  
The old worn, black cocktail dress was held against her chest as if it offered some sort of comfort against something she was feeling. Eyes trailed over nothing but the thoughts in her head, and she soon became lost in the maze that had held the emotions she kept so tightly locked up. She never heard the little footsteps that crept up to her. It was only when the soft, slightly dirty fingers of her son touched the tear then put his finger to his mouth that she came out of her state.   
  
Earnest blue eyes peered into hers, full of concern. She looked at him and forced herself to smile at the slightly smudged, pale skin and the rumpled, brown hair that was almost always in need of a hair cut. The slightly-pointed that ears had to be specially fitted for the hearing aids that allowed some vibrations to be felt in his otherwise silent ears.   
  
Yes, her perfect little boy was deaf. Earnest, little fingers moved, making sure she could see, speaking in the language that was so laborious and so rewarding for them all to learn. "Mommy, why are you crying?"   
  
Lee shivered slightly, sniffling and swallowing before she trusted herself to answer. Her fingers moved back slowly then with greater speed. "I'm not crying, baby. I'm fine. I just got a little bit of dust in my eye from this old dress."   
  
  
Lucas scowled before he started to sign again in earnest. "Mommy, why are you lying? You know Sister Mary says that if you lie, you go to hell. I don't want you to go to hell. I would miss you a lot and it really doesn't sound like anywhere I'd like to visit."   
  
Taking in the earnest look on her son's face, Lee couldn't help but break out in laughter and take her son into her arms. He seemed so much older then his tiny frame allowed for; he knew so much more. It was uncanny the things he could know just by looking at you. She rubbed his hair before as he sat staring up at her and she spoke out loud, "Oh, all right." And then her fingers moved to match her words.   
  
"Baby, it's not a lie. Not exactly, like the one that will send you to hell. It's called a little white lie, and those are okay sometimes. Sometimes if you tell the truth, it can hurt someone or make them feel bad. Like when mommies lie to their kids to make them not worry about things they needn't worry about. You understand?"   
  
But from the look on her son's face, she knew he wasn't convinced. A little sigh was made, her son was so innocent; he really didn't need to know about this yet. She wanted to protect him so bad it hurt. But he wouldn't allow her too. And then finally, she found something to say, almost as if someone was next to her whispering in her ear. "Lucas, you know how when Grandma made that really yucky pie, she forgot to put the sugar in it?"   
  
A nod was made as confirmation from him, and she went on. "Well, remember how we all ate it anyway and told her how good it was even though it wasn't true? Cause we didn't want to hurt her feelings? Well, that was a little white lie. It didn't hurt us to do it and it made her feel good. See? So, it's okay."   
  
The boy nodded quickly before he signed again. "Momma, it did hurt someone. It hurt my belly something fierce to eat it."   
  
Again Lee laughed, some of the lines and weariness draining from her face. "I gotta get ready to go out okay, baby? Alex is gonna watch you so Grandma can go to Aunt May's house to work on the quilts, alright? I'll try to get as beautiful as I can before I come and read you a story."   
  
"Mommy, you're already beautiful."   
  
She smiled and left him sitting on her bed, looking at old pictures while she went to the bathroom. The dress was pulled over her head quickly and she stared at the mirror, looking at her face once again through the steam. It almost appeared for a moment as if she was crying, holding something in her hands. Her mouth pulled up slightly as she leaned forward and put her hand against the mirror as if to clear it, to force the picture to come it clearer. But as soon as she did, the image was gone.   
  
Lee took a deep breath before speaking again. "Come on, Lee my girl, you gotta calm down. This whole thing is freaking you out."   
  
She opened the bathroom door with a plume of steam coming out from behind her and went to sit at the ancient dressing table again. Trembling fingers picked up the old, worn, silver hair brush and she started to pull it through the tangled wet mess. Lucas came over near her and stood just behind her so she could see him in the mirror. "Mommy," he signed, "my daddy's come around again, hasn't he?"   
  
She dropped the brush and it hit the old mirror with a resounding shatter. Her pale skin almost seemed to wash out even further before she signed back, "What makes you think that, sweetheart?"   
  
"You always get nervous and sad when he comes around. I remember how you were the last couple of times."   
  
Blink, blink, blink. She tried to count. He had been around when Lucas was two and three. But she fought the tremor of her hands as she signed back, "Baby, how can you remember that? It was a long time ago."   
  
"I know, Mommy. But I just remember. But it was different then, now there's something more. You're worrying more. Why are you?"   
  
This time, she couldn't stop the tremor. "I don't know, Lucas, I really don't know." And then she looked at the clock and sighed softly. She knew that he would be here any minute. Well, his ass could wait. Her son came first and he always would.   
  
"Come on, baby, let's go tuck you in and read you a story. It's past your bedtime." And with that, the strangeness of the feeling had past. For the moment anyway. He was still the little boy who didn't want to go to bed.   
  
Finally, she had him cleaned up and tucked into the little twin bed in the room that was covered in trucks and trains. Lucas loved trucks and trains. Lee pulled white comforter up to his chin and turned off the over head overhead light, leaving the fire engine lamp lit, giving the room a soft, welcoming glow. She pushed a slightly damp piece of hair from his forehead as she settled down on the bed next to him. " So, baby," signed. "What story would you like me to read to you tonight?"   
  
She knew very will what it would be. It would be same book as it always was. It was something they did every night. He would chose "Thomas the Tank Engine," and she would protest and read it anyway. It was something they both knew by heart. And yet, tonight it almost seemed to have a different feel too it. As if it was the last time things would be right again.   
  
"Mommy, you know which book."   
  
" But, baby, it's the same book every night."   
  
"I know, but I like it. Please?"   
  
And she gave in, as always, and started to read in her soft, clear voice, the hand motions almost matching the words.  
  
When she was finished, she reached over and put the book onto the night stand, wanting to linger as long as she could. And then he gave her a reason to stay. "Mommy,", signed. "I'm not a baby anymore."   
  
That gave her pause. He was still a baby to her. After all, he was only four. "Really? But you'll always be my baby."   
  
"But I'm a big boy, and tomorrow night, I want to tell you a story. I've been having dreams about it. Is that okay?"   
  
Lee let a breath out she wasn't even aware that she was holding. "Sure, of course it is, baby. What is the story about?"   
  
"Well, it's about a king..."   
  
She smiled, calming down and interrupting him, "and a queen?"   
  
"No, Mommy. The king didn't need a queen. He had a big maze. And he was looking for something. And he keeps getting closer and closer to finding it."   
  
A terrible feeling of foreboding washed over her as she asked, "What is he looking for?"   
  
"I don't know yet. But it'll come out soon enough. Sometimes the dreams even wake me up."   
  
"Lucas, when they wake you up, why don't you ring our bell or crawl into bed with me."   
  
"Because sometimes I can't."   
  
"You can't come and get me? Why not?"   
  
"Because something won't let me..." He caught the horrified look on his mother's face and immediately thought of the conversation just a few minutes ago. A little white lie to make people not to worry. That was alright. "Because I'm so tired, I just fall back asleep."   
  
  
Again Lee let out the air. A smile was caught on her face, and it seemed Lucas was a good liar after all. She leaned down and kissed his forehead again. "Well, baby, if you ever need me, all you have to do is ring our bell and I'll come running, okay?"   
  
"Yeah, Mommy. I love you always and in dreams." 

"I love you too, baby. Always and in dreams."  
  
And with that, she rose and started to walk towards the door, but the slow melodic chime of the bell pulled her back. She was instantly at her son's side with a smile. "Yeah, baby?"   
  
Those big, blue eyes bore holes into her own and he signed slowly, as if everything depended on this. "Mommy, if someone ever wanted to take me away, you'd stop them, right? You'd protect me."   
  
She dropped onto the bed and smoothed his hair down. "Baby, I'll always protect you, I'd do anything too. So would Grandma and Pepa, and Alex. We'd do anything to keep you safe."   
  
At Alex's name, something stirred deep inside Lucas's chest, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he looked to his mother and gave her a smile before pressing his hands into the words. "I love you."   
  
"I love you too, baby. You want me to stay here with you for a little longer?"   
  
As much as he wanted too, he couldn't make his hands form the words that his heart longed to. Instead, he signed, "I'm okay, Mommy, go."   
  
And then she kissed him again and went and shut the door.   
____________________________________________________________________________________________   
Alex was waiting for her when she walked into the kitchen. He spoke softly, in that oh so urgent tone of voice. "Lee, wait, don't do this. Don't see him tonight. Stay here, stay with me."   
  
Lee looked to the hand he had pressed to her arm before she spoke softly, one hand reaching to lightly caress his cheek. "I have to, Alex, you know that. If I don't, god knows what he's gonna do. I'll see him for Lucas's sake so he can safely deposit any presents and broken promises then leave again for his fancy life far away from us. And he'll be gone for another year and we can be at peace."   
  
"Just let me talk to him, take care of him. Can't you see what this is doing to you, to you both? Every single time he shows up, he blunders into the threads of your family and tears them into tiny shreds. He hasn't even taken the time to learn to communicate with his son. What the hell kind of father is that? It kills you to see the broken look in Lucas's eyes. It kills everyone else to see that look in yours."   
  
"Damn it, why do you keep acting as though I'm gonna break? I'm fine! God damn it, I'm fine! Why can't you and my mother and everyone else get that through your thick-headed skulls? I love my life as it is. I'm happy here in Sunset. The restaurant is doing great with the base so close, and the doctors are good, the schools are good and practically the whole town can speak to my son on the street. Everyone I love and care about is here. And if I have to put up with his shit once a year or less, then that's fine with me. I don't want to have to run again."   
  
"Lee, we aren't talking about running. I'll take care of this and he won't ever bother you and this perfect life again. He'll be gone, and he'll stay away this time."   
  
"Alex, what are you talking about doing? You're scaring me." Lee's voice had gone deadly soft as she looked at her friend, the vicious glint in his eyes speaking of something much bigger then a simple, little, custody manner. But in that moment, a blink of an eye, the look was replaced by his normal look.   
  
"Lee, talking to him, just talking. Telling me that you don't want to see him anymore, you want him out of your life and Lucas's life for good."   
  
"That wouldn't work. You don't know him like I do. He'd think he'd have competition and come charging back as if he was playing a part. I'll just go with him tonight and then he'll go away when he thinks I'm still pining for him."   
  
At those words, Alex moved his hand up her arm until he pushed her chin up to met his eyes. "And are you?"   
  
"Am I what?"   
  
"Pining for him?"   
  
"Alex, for god's sake. I don't love him. He was.... he was a mistake. A stupid, childish mistake I made when I was a naive kid. The only good thing that came of us was Lucas. And that's it."   
  
Alex seemed content with that... for the moment anyway. "Lee, are you sure that's what you want to do? Are you sure you can handle this again?" Seeing the darkness come into eyes, he quickly added, "It's just that I worry so much about, you. We all do."   
  
Slowly, he took her hand in his. He looked down at them for a moment before he spoke again. "You take on so much for yourself, so much for everyone else. You need someone to take things on for you, to help you. Please let me..."   
  
But we never got to hear what he wanted to help her with. At that moment, the roar of a sport's car almost seemed to shake the house and then there was the loud, inpatient sound of a car horn. For a second, Lee had an almost deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression before she gave him a smile and picked up the long coat and purse that were next to them. Slowly she pressed her lips to his cheek.   
  
"I have to go, Alex. And trust me, I'll be fine. Don't worry. I can handle him." And then she slowly walked out the door.   
  
He watched her go, hearing the slamming of the car door before he spoke. "Yeah, and I can handle both of you."   
  
  


Chapter Three

Brian Parr sat at the battered desk, his fingers closing around the small piece of folded foil. The lighter was passed under it in a slow practiced movement. The small piece of tubing was suckled as if he was an infant in need of feeding. Well, perhaps in this sense he was. He was fuming more then the melting drugs. He never even heard the silent footfalls that entered the room behind him, not until it was too late. 

  
  


The voice that spoke was soft, polite as if it was enquiring about the weather. "Well, Brian no alcohol for you, not the sweet stench of scotch even at a party. And now I come in and find you like this. My, my, my and you think you know a person. Do you know what I might have to do if I came and found this stuff in your office? It would mean a court-martial. I really don't think any of us want that..."

  
  


The figure moved towards the shelf that was stocked with the obligatory liquor and poured two rather large glasses of tequila. Slow steps were taken towards the desk and one glass was settled in front of the now rather pale General Parr. As he spoke, he almost seemed to sputter. "It isn't what you think, I only do it when I need to, when I have a rough day. Like, like today. She's still giving me shit."

  
  


The tone of the word "She" left little to the imagination about the fact that they both knew who was being referred to. "Calm down Brian. You're little stress reliving habit as you put it, is getting a little out of control. After all, a thousand dollars a day can hardly be called recreational, even if it doesn't come out of your pocket. Don't get stupid like this again. Next time it might not be me who catches you, and trust me all protection I offer will vanish when you no longer are useful to me."

  
  


"Come on, old chum surely you aren't threatening me..."

  
  


"Old chum, such a charming turn of phrase. Are we really old chums, Brian. I always thought that it was that you were my hired monkey and I held the strings. You are paid well enough to know that I do not waste time making threats. Now tell me what our little girl did today."

It almost seemed that Brian was stalling for time. What other reason could he have for having his fingers slowly moving the glass of tequila around in a hazy circle. Moist droplets were cast down the edges of the glass, falling with deary regularity onto the personal file that sat open before him: Williams, Sarah, E. One jagged nail moved slowly over the page as he read out loud.

  
  


"Graduated valedictorian from Lakewood High School in dreary old Namoth, New Hampshire. Out of a class of three hundred-twenty-five. From there she entered the fighter pilot school at Milford, once again the top of her class. Flew, with honors over Iraq and Somalia, over the no-fly zone. Asked for a transfer to NASA in 96 and then was sent here in February. And now, thanks to you, she's a fucking pain in my ass."

  
  


The other person spoke in a soft, mild mannered tone of voice. "You know, Brian, you really should calm down, what is this going to do to your blood pressure? Or what will it do to mine? Common curtsy, Brian you should perhaps learn to use it. I can bet you wouldn't have reached your currant heights of let's say glory if I hadn't padded the edges for you. Or taken care of that harmless little affair with your wife."

  
  


La la la, what was the old saying, if you push enough buttons you have to get a response?. "Leave Diana out of this! Fuck my blood pressure. You have to fix this. When the hell is she gonna get out of my hair?"

  
  


And then the voice was soft and deathly chilled. "Brian, if you ever take that tone with me I shall personally make sure that you spend the rest of your miserable little career picking up bear shit in Yellowstone. As for the unfortunate Miss Williams, that little reunion will soon be taking place at last."

  
  


Brian swallowed before he spoke again, "So I am not a total screw up then."

  
  


"Not a total one, but the road is far from over and there is a lot of rope hanging around. Make sure it doesn't loop around your scrawny little neck. After all, you know that we cannot allow him to fall into the wrong hands."

  
  


"Yes Sir, I know that. There should be something happening right now."

  
  


"I know all about it General Parr, and I hope for your sake it does, indeed work."

  
  


And with a turn of black trench coat, he was gone.

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Four.

  
  


Lee walked slowly towards the car, pulling the dress over her body in a sort of last ditch effort to calm supercharged nerves. As she reached for the door handle and caught sight of his profile, she had to take a breath. It was scary to know that after all these years, he still had this sort of effect on her. As she settled against the warm leather that grouped her skin, she looked at him, as if trying to find some flaw, something to show that he had changed.

  
  


And she found none, not one in that perfect flawless honey tan. No sign of change in the marble worthy chin, the unruly wave of his sandy brown hair. Nothing in those firm so kissable lips... Lee had to stop herself, not allow the dawning of her mind to shift over to the times past. Because the scariest thing of all was the lack of change in those deep gaslight blue eyes. As they moved to rake over her form with almost living fingers, Lee felt frightened.

  
  


There was no warmth, no joy. There was the briefest flash of disappointment... and then lust almost seemed to rear itself up. Lee felt that familiar, and yet long wished forgotten feeling of hit running through her veins and she stared, keeping her eyes front on the dark road before her. 

  
  


For a few moments there was silence before he spoke in that cold, soft tone. His chilled, long fingers locked tightly around her wrist. "You wish I had stayed away, don't you, Lee?"

  
  


"No, why ever would you think that?"

  
  


The grip tightened as if in a warning before he spoke in that same mild coldness. "Why are you lying to me, Lee? I always know when you are lying."

  
  


She swallowed slightly the burning pain riding up her wrist. 'I'm not,' she knew she should say it, and yet she couldn't. Instead, she fell upon the old practice of changing the subject. "So how long are you back for?"

  
  


He looked forward to follow the same road he was, even if he did look at it as if it was something totally different. "Well, my dearest Lee, that would depend."

  
  


"On what?" Her warm pink tongue stole over those chilled chapped lips as she waited the answer which inside she was already dreading.

  
  


And then it was the same mildness that instilled the fear in her before. "Well, on a lot of things. You, perhaps mostly."

  
  


She swallowed. "Me?"

  
  


"Why, yes, my dearest Lee, my length of stay in this arsine little town all depends on you. You and my son."

  
  


"He's not your son, he's hardly even ours. He's mostly mine. I've raised him and I've taken care of him. You have done nothing for him. I won't let you even think about taking him away from me." As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, Lee regretted them. She knew, she knew how she acted when she allowed her buttons to be pushed. And now from the look on his face, she got a tiny twinge of greater fear.

  
  


"Lee, it seems you've grown a defiant streak in the time since I've seen you last. Do you think I should be nice and allow you the time to reconsider before you speak so to me again." If you didn't know him, if you didn't know the look in his eyes, the manner in which he spoke would almost seem to be kind and generous. But Lee knew better, much better.

  
  


Her chin came forward in the manner those who knew her knew so well. "I'm not the same sixteen-year-old you met and played with before. I've grown up. I am a woman now, make no mistake. And everything, including you comes second to my son."

  
  


He clicked his tongue in a condescending manner. " You disappoint me." Dangerous words that were spoken. Almost perhaps more dangerous then the most lethal of threats. "Now, Lee, perhaps you had best calm down. I really don't wish to hunt you down again. Surely you haven't forgotten what happened last time you got such grand notations in your head."

  
  


She couldn't forget. When she was eighteen she took Lucas and ran. Ran for her life. She had enough of his possessiveness, enough of his anger, and enough of the daily threat of his moods. It seemed she could never know who she was with at the time. In one moment he was playing a joke, and the next he was serious. Deadly and painfully serious. The last time he had used her as a doll. 

  
  


For four long painful months she was on the move. Finally, when she thought she and Lucas were safe, he had found her. It was almost as if some sixth sense drove him to the small island off the coast of Maine. As far as she could run from him and still be in the states. And when he found her, she didn't even know what forced her to get on the private plane with him. Didn't even know why she didn't fight.

  
  


And from then on, she stayed where she was put. Always terrified of the promise that he could always find her. No matter what.

  
  


As if he was somehow tied inside her head, he spoke. "No matter what, Lee. You belong to me. And you aren't going anywhere. Ever. And I mean that."

  
  


She spoke through thin, tight lips. "I know you do."

  
  


"Good, we understand each other then, Lee. I'd hate to have to teach you another lesson." 

  
  


And with that he leaned close to her. Never before in her life had Lee known someone who used a kiss as punishment. But he did. The lips that were pressed to hers were rough and forceful. The tongue probed against her lips, demanding entrance, demanding the dance. Stabbing and engorging, the kiss was erotically painful, a pleasurable sin it itself. Those perfect ivory teeth clamped down lightly on the lower part of her lips, pulling it as his silken fingers tugged on the loose tendrils at the back of her neck. 

  
  


Lee whimpered at the feel of those strong camera-ready teeth. She pulled slowly away from him, the encasement of her lip ending with a small tear and a drop of blood. She pressed her gloved fingers to her mouth and was surprised when it came away with a small crimson circle on it. She stared at him, her eyes peering like shadows from the paleness of her skin.

  
  


The blood that was caught on his lip almost seemed to make him seem feral in the snowy light and she stared at him as he touched the blood with his fingers before lapping it up like some great beast. He half closed his eyes as if savoring and Lee was again a terrible stabbing fear. She pulled away from him and moved to the other side of the car, as far as the Italian craftsmanship would allow. 

  
  
  
  


He spoke softly again, his eyes glaring into her, feeling as if they were boring holes inside her soul. "Because we have been away from each other for so long, I am going to allow that. But it will never happen again, will it Lee? Do you understand me?"

  
  


The fingers that had been pulling at the back of her hair slid down over the length of the black cocktail dress before coming to rest against her right breast. Those silken fingers wrapped around her right nipple and started to squeeze slowly, twisting the nipple in a painful half circle. She almost seemed to squeak as he pulled her closer to him so his arm could wrap around her shoulders. But he still held that tender flesh tight.

  
  


"Now, Lee, I want you to say my name. And promise me you'll never act so stupidly again. Do you understand?"

  
  


"Yes, Toby. I understand. I won't do it again."

  
  


And with that said, his moist lips were upon her ear and neck, his tongue sliding as if it was a poisonous snake. She shuddered as Toby Williams crooned in her ear, "That's my girl."

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Five

  
  


Four hours later, Sarah stepped out of the SIM cockpit and slowly turned to face the door to control room. Her sore fingers moved slowly over her back in a vain effort to try to stop the pain that the manual flying always caused. Something about moving around in ten "Gs" who knew? Finally a decision was reached and she started towards the closed door, the blinking red lights on the key-card lock seeming like menacing eyes glaring at her in a predatory light from the darkness. 

Each painful second was accented with an inward wince given at every step of those sore muscles. It seemed that her entire body was almost a mass of painful places. And every part of her discomfort seemed multiplied by the slow mechanical hum of the cameras as they followed her. Normally not noticed, tonight they seemed almost stalking it's prey. She shivered, wondering for a moment who's hidden eyes were making the skin on the back of her neck stand up so. 

'Oh my god, Sarah. Calm down, what the hell is the matter with you tonight?' She spoke the words inside her own head. She knew, all to well, the rumors of what happened to NASA pilots who started to crack up and talk to themselves. In her head she counted down the steps. Ten, five, three, and finally she was standing outside the door to the room that Parr liked to call "Soul of the Universe." Sarah hated it. It almost made her feel like it was some kind of joke made at her expense.

  
  


Aching fingers reached into her pocket for the small plastic card, one of only seven like it. For some reason, the number seven always made her feel odd, like there was magic embedded in the very fiber of a number. A triumphant smile was made as her hand closed over it and smile was issued to the camera that took a still shot as it scanned through the slot. Once you got in there were no more cameras. The door opened and Sarah stepped slowly into it, a hateful glance cast to the ornate leather chair that she and Hecter had nicknamed "The No Touch zone."

  
  


Well, that was exactly what Sarah was intending on doing. She stormed up to the chair and slammed her combat trained fists into it. Suddenly she heard Hector's voice ring out with each blow. "Hey, that's a no touch zone... in other hand, that feels good... mmmmm..." And of course Sarah started to insanely giggle.

  
  


"God damn it, Hector! I'm trying to be mad!" And with one final kick, she sent the chair spinning across the room. "I cannot believe he talked to me like that again. I should fucking report his ass!"

  
  


Hector sighed, this was obviously something that they had gone through before. "Come on Sarah, you know better then that. Guys like him don't end up in front of Congress with tons of questions. The girls just..disappear. And we like you to much for you to merely vanish into thin air."

  
  


She flopped into her chair and cupped her chin into her hands and looked at him. "Don't you worry about what he would do if he found out you were..."

  
  


"Gay?" He finished for her, his fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard he was using to record the progress she had made on the second flight. She nodded gratefully, hating to label anyone. She had far to much of it in her career. He turned to look at her then, his perfect pearly white shining forth from his coal skin. "Well, I imagine he'd do what any other old white guy would do when he found out. Call me a fag, try to kick my ass, cop a feel to see if he liked it. You know random shit like that. I wouldn't be a bit amazed if he had a controversial little closet secret somewhere in the past. After all, there were all those rumors before he came her to this odd little corner of Alaskan airspace. Rumors like he shouldn't even be up here at all, cause he has no knowledge in the field of the Atlas X-695. None at all in fact."

  
  


Sarah looked at him like the cat who ate the canary. "Hecter, where the hell did you hear this and why on earth didn't you tell me before. And not only that but what is his field of expertise?"

  
  


He sighed, looking down, knowing what he wanted to say and knowing that to say it would be to go way to far. "Look at me, Sarah. What is my field of expertise?"

  
  


"You were a hacker, you broke into the NCIC mainframe at sixteen and you cracked the codes for the VCANPH when you were a senior at MIT at eighteen. But you shouldn't need to hack into Parr's files. You have red clearance levels."

  
  


"Well, Sarah, the thing about red clearance levels is that it only works on things that are red clearance. Last week I was here and was sent and email to check the personal files of some people. And while I had the program open, I looked up his. Only it wasn't a red code, it was a black."

  
  


"A black code? They black code personal files? Since when? And why the hell would they, he should be a matter of public record with all the metal attached to his chest."

  
  


"Should be, but isn't. It's the only one in the entire data base that was black coded. Mine isn't even and my previous exploits are illegal. Highly illegal. So I hadda get curious about why someone was trying so very hard to hide him from even red listed prying eyes. So I hacked it. It took me twenty minutes, which I think is some sort of record, even for me. Anyway, I used Parr's password. He really hates you or wants to fuck you, or both."

  
  


Sarah visibly shivered. "Oh Christ, don't say that babe. I'll have to go and sterilize my skin. Anyway, what the hell makes you say that?"

  
  


"Well, my chica, his password was and you know I love you and everything : 'That-fucking-whore-Sarah."

  
  


Sarah bounced up out of her chair with a screech. "What?! What?! That slimly fucking bastard! That pig, wait til I see him, I'll give him the ass kicking he's decedents will remember forever!" And with that she stormed over to the chair and started kicking it. Hecter let her do it for a little while before he quietly broke in.

  
  


"Uh, Sarah, sweetie?"

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"You can't tell him, because you can't know. I hacked it, remember?"

  
  


She muttered a curse and moved back into her chair, all the while keeping flaming eyes on the chair that he normally sat in. He looked at her, nodding for a moment before turning back to his screen and pulling up the file.

  
  


"Well, Sarah, look. He never was apart of the Atlas Project. He was working for a project called Keyword: Underground."

  
  


"I've never heard of it. Not even the vaguest whispers."

  
  


"No one has, not even me and the scary thing is that where it's supposda be, the space on a map. It doesn't exist, anywhere."

  
  


"How can that be? There's no records anywhere save for his black file?" She placed a small piece of hair between her lips and looked at the file that she was being shown. There it was in Times New Roman, ten point. No such location. About ten miles into the sky. Beyond the end of the world.

  
  


"And there's something else. He was the one who asked for your file, and for you to test for Atlas."

  
  


"Why the hell would he do that? He hates me, he wants me dead."

  
  


"I think it's cause someone else told him to do it. He's on someone's payroll. He has to be, all that tin? He either stole or paid for it. There's no actual awards or commadations in his file. He should, by rights have been court-marshaled in '86 when he got busted with two grand worth of stolen coke. But he didn't the file didn't even make it to his CO, he made a phone call and it got taken care of."

  
  


"Okay, Hec, this is kinda freaking me out. I wanna get the hell outta here. Are we on for Space Oddity tonight? That band you like's playing."

  
  


"The one with the cute blond guy, you bet yer ass. Okay, so we showering and changing and meeting at my car?"

"Sounds like a plan, gimme a half an hour." Sarah moved slowly towards the door, now even more wary of the machine eyes that would follow her every breath. She forced herself not to run, not to work herself up to far.

  
  


And then finally she came to the woman's showers. The room that Parr had entitled "The PMS suite." If he hated having her around so much then why the hell was she even here? She didn't like not knowing. And at that moment the meaning of what Hecter had said slammed home. "Project: Underground." Underground? There was no way in hell that could have the same meaning for her as it did for whoever had thought it up. No way at all.

  
  


Those damned cameras still followed her, even in the depths of what should be her private place. It sure seemed private didn't it? They recorded every change of her face as she thought, those still frames capturing them forever for posterity. Very slowly she pulled off the blue jumpsuit and tossed it into the dirty laundry bag and then she grabbed a towel. Still clad in her white sports bra and panties, she went to the shower stalls and looked slowly up to the camera with it's blinking red light.

  
  


A decision was made and she looked down quickly, going over to the first facet and turning the hot water on as high as it would go. She breathed in the deep billows of steam before she stood there, letting it engulf her. But she could still see the red light. Finally, not caring what she looked like, she ran to the next facet and turned that on full blast as well. And then the next and the next until finally all twenty shower heads were sprouting steaming hot water. And when the steam was so thick you could almost use it as a pillow, she stripped.

  
  


Sarah stood under the steaming jets, positioning them so that they almost embraced her on every side. She sighed softly, the water rushing over her as she poured some of the rose body wash onto a sponge. She moved the suds over her skin, savoring the sweet scent that crept into her nostrils. And then suddenly, it seemed her stomach had dropped out from underneath her. 

  
  


All she could smell was the sticky sweetness of peaches.

  
  


She dropped the sponge quickly, she had always hated the smell of peaches ever since the last one she would ever eat. Even if it was only a stupid half remembered dream, it had that effect. Very softly Sarah spoke out loud. "Calm down, girl. You're cracking up here."

  
  


And as she slowly bent down to pick up the sponge, she heard a slow rolling sound, almost like stone against the worn tile of the floor. She turned towards the door, totally unaware of the nakedness of herself, or of the rapidly vanishing steam. 

  
  


What Sarah saw made her gasp and hold her hand to her mouth. And all she could see was the small crystal sphere that was rolling over the floor towards her.


	3. Chapter Six

  


The crystal kept on its path, light reflecting of the stone's surface and deep within its depths. The figure followed it blindly, enchanted, as if it were the Pied Piper of lore. The ball picked up speed, looking almost like a prism that reflected against those eyes. The scenery was familiar, if not a little wishy-washy, as if were viewed through murky waters under the earth's surface.   
  
Except that the Earth had never been so silent. No birds sang, no crickets chirped. There was nothing but the rolling of the crystal and the rapidly-becoming, labored breath of its vapid follower. The ball didn't care for the laws of physics, it denied them with the leisurely pace it used to roll up the stairs. It didn't amuse the follower, and he certainly didn't care about the measure of effort the magic took.   
  
Finally Lucas came to the throne room and stood before the Underground's master. His face was a perfect mask of indifference as he studied Jareth, frightfully alien as if something had taken over the body of the four-year-old child. Jareth's lips twisted into an almost-cold smile as one hand was beckoned the child forward. Lucas stood there watching with disinterested eyes before stepping closer with shuffling steps.   
  
And then the Goblin King slowly reached forward and lightly touched the child and not a child's face with his chilled, bare hand.   
  
The boy gasped at the touch, the unnatural coldness about it. Had he know the words, he would have likened it to the cold chill of a crypt. He pulled away instinctively, his eyes wide as he stared back into Jareth's arctic gaze. Gone were the mis-matched eyes that came from Sarah's imagination. Gone was the high, blond hair.   
  
In the place of the cruel goblin king there was now the appearance of a mortal man. Nothing hugely spectacular or attractive. He looked... average, average skin color, brown hair, normal lips. Normal looking all of it, except for the famuntous black of his eyes.   
  
They radiated power, almost as if mirrors to reflect and maximize the pain that he looked upon. The pain he could see inside your soul like a starving man. Lucas had never seen this side of him before in the dreams that plagued him. Yet, he had always known that it was there, waiting as if a snake for the perfect chance to strike. But he wasn't afraid. He couldn't be. And Lucas knew that the change was very important. He could sense it and the electric current in the air.   
  
It gave him the courage to step back within the range of Jareth, his chin thrust up. Eyes were almost serene as he stared into the blackness. He spoke softly, as he could only in this dream world. "Was there something special you wanted, Jareth? I'm kind of tired tonight."   
  
The goblin king looked almost faintly amused at the tone of the child who visited him so often. He would have given that rare sandpaper-scrape laugh had he not been so annoyed by the reactions his ˜heartfelt' words had brought earlier. Instead, he settled back against the black cotton of the draped divan that served as a throne. The chilled hand crept back to his knee as he eyed Lucas. Slowly, gold started to started to shimmer in specks within the deep black of his eyes like a disturbed water globe. And then they returned to their average hazel, with all the effect and appearance of the latest Hollywood blockbuster.   
  
The hairs on the back of his neck pricked, but he didn't flinch. For the first time, he knew he could be brave. Jareth spoke softly, almost as if mildly bored with mock amazement. "Lucas, you cut me to the quick. One would almost think you didn't enjoy our nightly chats."   
  
"Is that what you call them? Why are we having them so much if they're just chats?"   
  
"You are entirely to suspicious for you own good, Lucas. Come on then, let's have a... casual conversation if you prefer."   
  
That˜casual conversation' sure sounded ominous to Lucas, but he didn't say the retort that came to his lips. Instead he stood there, arms crossed across his chest as he watched Jareth who sighed softly.   
  
"All right then, Lucas, we'll talk far apart. So what's this I hear? Are you telling your mother a story?"   
  
The boy shifted uncomfortably now. "Yeah, she's tired of the old one."   
  
Jareth snorted with disgust. "Thomas the Tank Engine. Honestly, what a choice for a bedtime story."   
  
"What, don't tell me you believe in all that fairy crap? ."   
  
The royal brow of the Underground's ruler was pulled into an arch as he looking meaningfully around. Lucas coughed and turned a lovely shade of pink before speaking again. "Uh. Sorry, just something my Pepa would say."   
  
"Yes, something he would say indeed. Now then, Lucas, what is the story about?"   
  
"Nothing. Just some dumb story."   
  
"A dumb story where the king doesn't need a queen? You weren't thinking of telling her my story, now where you, Lucas?"   
  
"Why not? It's something I made up. It's not like you tell me any real stuff about you anyway."   
  
"Lucas, I really hate liars. I know you told her it's about the dreams you've been having and you've asked her if she would stop anyone from taking you away from her."   
  
"Yes. And she would stop whoever tried. Even my daddy. You said you'd take care of me. Make my Daddy go away so he can't hurt my Mommy no more."   
  
The hand clenched in Jareth's lap then relaxed. The words were spoken slowly, almost as if through grit gritted teeth. "I sadly can't do anything to him directly and your mother isn't going to listen to anything anyone tells her. She's too headstrong. But don't worry, he'll be going away soon he always does."   
  
"How do you know that?"   
  
"Lucas, why do you think I know about that, huh? I know everything about you. I even know about you and your Mommy's little phrase. 'Always and in dreams.' How cute."   
  
"Don't you say anything bad about my mommy, Jareth. I know you need something and I'll never give it to you if you do anything to her!"   
  
"I know that, Lucas. Have I ever done anything to her but try to protect her? No, of course not. I need you both too much to do something stupid like that. Now come here. You want a story? I'll tell you one."   
  
Lucas climbed up onto the throne and looked at Jareth expectantly after settling down all comfortable. "Go on, Jareth."   
  
"So how should I start, Lucas? I suppose I should start with that charming little phrase. 'Once upon a time.' That's how all of the best stories start, right? Before they move indubitably to some great level of hardship. There's none of that in my story. Let's just say what mortals know of Fae is grossly overstated. The king of this place, The Underground, really doesn't need a queen. It only needs one ruler. You see, it all starts a very long time ago when the Fae race was growing much too large for the lands where they lived.   
  
"And they did live in many places, and they kept having many, many children. And the children would grow up to have children, and so on and so forth. Fae like to have excess of pleasures in everything. Food, fun, even... physical pleasures. So all this these Fae children kept being born, and most Fae are immortal which means that they live forever and very rarely die.   
  
"So the ruling council of the Fae lands had a meeting. They were almost starving and there was no room and the mortal realm was growing more and more insane with the religion hysteria that came to be called 'Witch hunts.' People stopped being nice to them and started to take over their secret places. The borders between worlds. It was a time of great crisis and great madness.   
  
"All of the members of the group kept blaming every other clan for the misfortunes and finally, the oldest of all the Fae, the one people called the father stood up with his big staff. At once all of the other Fae grew quiet and turned to look at him. In the centuries of the meetings, he had never said one word. When he spoke, his voice was harsh and whizened.. Most people couldn't remember when he had last used it.   
  
  
" 'My children,' he said, 'we have come to a time of great crisis and we are endanger of being wiped out. So now we must take the measures I have been dreading for over a dozen millennia. A long time ago, the maker gave me the great secret to our power and how to stop it. I fear that this is what I must do now. There will be no more Fae children. All of the elders who have lived for more than half-a-quick shall find their time coming to a sad end.'   
  
"At this, a great cry wrought out. To a Fae, half-a-quick is nothing, but to humans it was almost a thousand years. And most of the wealthy and ruling class were well beyond this ill-thought cutoff date. They begged the great one to reconsider, but he refused, saying that the makers had told him that one day it would have to be that way.   
  
"The council was enraged, saying that he was crazy, that the age had finally gone to his head. So they had a plan. They would lock the elder away and break the staff that many believed to be the source of his magic. But before they could try, a great plague spread forth through the land, claiming old and young alike. People tried anything they could to stop it. But they couldn't and the elder sat on living inside his cage.   
  
"For a thousand years the plague lasted, magic shrinking until it came to be wild and couldn't could be hardly controlled anymore. Sometimes it could be harnessed within a crystal. But mostly it became places were the Fae could enter and become whole and more powerful than they were before.   
  
"And then finally, the elder came out of hiding and looked to the few Fae that were still living, and he spoke to them, his voice even more harsh then before. 'You refused to believe, and now look how many are dead. But now our people will always have enough. From this day forward, one male Fae in every generation will have the power to reproduce. And only that one. They shall be born from the loins of the one before. Only one shall be born and he shall have the power to claim any kingdom he chooses. It shall be so from now until the return of the founder.'   
  
"After those words were spoken, the elder reached out with his staff to touch one of the weaker and younger Fae. As the elder died, the young one's magic increased, and his anger did as well. He became very cruel and unfeeling. Now when I say that the Fae always went into excess, they found that they could go into excess of a mortal's emotion, even delighting in it. And so the old legends of the little people were born.   
  
"Time passed, and it was as the elder said. The line of the family kept going downward, as the magic started to seep away from the other kingdoms, finally coming to collect inside one. The ruler of this one was the most powerful, and he could enter the pool of the magic whenever he wished. And always, he came out stronger.   
  
"The line of the blood, as the Fae who could have a child was called, started to grow weaker and weaker, often getting lost amongst the blood of mortals. And then it was gone, and they had no knowledge of the child that was born for three hundred years.   
  
"But the Fae didn't care. Most of them had long ago forgotten about the blessing and curse the elder placed. All but one. And then he found the child, born in a mortal hospital and then switched with another child. The strongest Fae decided that he didn't wish to loose his kingdom so he decided to steal him to turn him into a goblin the child could never again make a threat on the power he, the strongest Fae, possessed. 

"The family that received the child had an older sister, and the Fae figured that he would use her to get the baby. So he gave her a book which had the power to bring the child to him. But something happened that shouldn't have. The girl won and the child went home. And that's the end of the story."   
  
Lucas looked deep into Jareth's eyes. "Was the story true?"   
  
Jareth snorted. "Of course not, now go to sleep." The chilled hand was placed once again on Lucas's cheek as the boy fell into a deep sleep.   
  
And back in the mortal realm, Alex pulled his hand away with a sly smile.

_____________________________________________________________________

A/N: Like what you have read so far? Wanna read more. Leave a review, don't make me start to blackmail you. 


	4. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven.   
  
The crystal ball kept along its terrible journey, the resounding sound of the ball meeting tile bouncing along the half walls that separated the shower from the main locker room. Sarah gasped and instinctively pulled her feet out of the oncoming path. Shaky, baby blues followed the trail as if expecting a snake to come slithering up behind the ball, jaws open to swallow it whole. As it seemed the ball was about to strike the tile of the far wall, Sarah braced herself for the inevitable sound of the shattering crystal.   
  
No sound came.   
  
Anger and wonder overcame her fear, and she pulled herself effortlessly to her feet. Sarah moved into a predatory crouch, feet landing for balance in a fighting stance as she made her way to the far wall. The steam, which had seemed to be disappearing before, now seemed to come back fuller and thicker as if trying to impend her process. Some part of her wondered if maybe the steam could have dampened the sound that should have been heard. She clung to that thought for a moment before the splash of the cold water under her feet put that option totally to bed.   
  
Finally, after holding her breath for fear of the sounds it made, she found the space. Slowly, looking over her shoulder as if expecting to find someone behind her, Sarah slid to her knees to examine the space. Half-trembling fingers crept slowly over the still-chilled stone as if she was a blind woman. There was nothing there. Nothing. No shattered shards, no hole, no crystal ball. There wasn't even a mark where something could have been.   
  
She checked again, fingers become more and more urgent, more and more thorough as she looked for something she could have missed. Perfect, pearly whites closed around her lip as she checked, getting angrier. She didn't miss the spot, she couldn't off have. It should have been right there. As she kneeled, the shower water was becoming rapidly more frigid. Another fit of trembling was made, as her skin, in quick order, started to become covered in gooseflesh. "What the fucking hell?!"   
  
It seemed she almost hissed the words as her flattened palm met wet thigh with the resounding sound of flesh against flesh. Sarah looked through the cascading showers, eyes finally landing on the half-forgotten sponge. She almost leapt towards it, pulling it to her nose with a triumphant sound. The loose knit fabric was pressed to her nose, and she inhaled deeply.   
  
The smell she was looking for so desperately to find wasn't there. If it was ever there in fact, there before, the water had washed the evidence down the drain. Sarah threw it against the wall, making a sound of pure disgust. She stalked over to the faucets and angrily turned them off one by one. She spoke softly, in a malevolent voice. "Someone's trying to gaslight me, and it sure as hell ain't gonna work!"   
  
And with that she stormed into the lockers to change into some clothes.   
_________________________________________________________________________________________   
He watched her, peering through what was left of the billowing steam like the worst of voyeurs. But the steam didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He sipped his coffee and shook the ashes of the cigarette before a slow leisurely keystroke changed the angle on the camera to one where he could see her better. His face twisted, lips forming a smile as he watched.   
  
One finger tapped over the screen of the computer as a few more movements of the keyboard set the master plan into motion. He marveled at the ease of it all. A few parlor tricks, some fake magic, and a camera recording it all for posterity. On film she looked totally insane. Almost ready to snap.   
  
'Almost ready to snap.' he thought, ' All she needs is a little push, and the girl will topple right over the edge.'   
  
Right over the edge and into his clutches.   
  
  
Sarah's big Ford Explorer pulled into the snow-packed parking lot of Space Oddity not to too long after that. She sighed as she adjusted her bomber jacket. She never normally came here alone. But she wasn't alone, she reminded herself, she was with Hecter. A toss was made of her hair as she slowly pushed the heavy door open.   
  
And she was immediately met with cat calls and war whoops. She laughed as she got random calls from around the bar. She accepted them with a wave and a laugh. "Ya, wouldn't do that if I wasn't one of the three chicks in this town that was under fifty or not married."   
  
Sarah even managed to sashay over to the bar stool, pausing a moment for sport before leaning over and sliding her jeans against the worn warmth of the stool. She sighed softly and streched out her neck before reaching for a handful of peanuts and tossing them into her mouth. Hec looked at her with a brow arched. "Um, aren't we a little... late here?"   
  
She scooted forward, elbows coming to rest on the counter before she plopped her chin into her hands with a sigh. "Don't ask, you know the showers at that damned place." He nodded to her with sympathetic eyes, one hand coming to rest tightly on her shoulder, almost as if he was were petting her. Sarah cocked her head to the side before she spotted Tom the owner walking over to her, wiping his hands on the pants to his khaki suit.   
  
He spoke in that great, lumbering voice. "So, Sarah, where's the lovely lady, Lee? In the car getting gussied all up for me?" He adjusted his tie as he tried to look alluring for her. "Has she finally consented to be my lady."   
  
At that almost the entire bar cracked up. Tom's passion for Lee was the stuff that sad, geeky legends were made of. She spoke softly. "Sorry, babe, I dunno where she is tonight. I hadda work."   
  
Even saying those words made her look more miserable then she had been before and Tom smiled, leaning over the bar slightly. "Well, Sarah my dear, I have just the thing. Wanna try my new drink?" Perhaps even more legendary then his love for Lee was the passion that someday he would make a really good brand-new drink. Normally they ended up on the higher end of the alcoholic scale.   
  
But that didn't stop Sarah's face from breaking into a deep smile. "Sure, Tom, you know me. You can always poison me if you wanna." Tom's face broke into a smile as he quickly turned to the counter that the regulars called "the potions table."   
  
As the familiar sounds of a shaker jingled, Hec turned to Sarah and said softly, "I don't know why you always let him do that to you. You're gonna end up barfing in my backseat again, Williams."   
  
"Come on, Hec, it was just that one time."   
  
"One time, my ass. Hey! Guess what!"   
  
"What?"   
  
"My Mama called me today. You know her, she left ten messages on my machine with all the news."   
  
Sarah smiled. "What did she say?"   
  
"Well, first of all she thinks you need to eat more and swears to mail you some good home cooking. She says just 'cause you fly like a bird ain't no reason to eat like one. And Nick's best man from Maria's wedding wants to know when you're coming back. And that you're one hell of a kisser. Something going on there I didn't know about. I think she's determined to see you family even if I won't marry you."   
  
Sarah laughed, her first real laugh in she didn't even know how long. "I love your mom . You know she even gave me permission to screw around if we got married? You couldn't, but I could."   
  
"Screwing around, what's this?" Tom walked up to the two, the large iced tea glass almost filled to the brim. Sarah's stomach almost lurched at the sight of the swivel stick, twisting straw, and fruit. Sarah's brow arched as he sat it down in front of her.   
  
"Fruit and a swivel stick? What are you trying to do to me, make me all girly?" Hecter snorted as Tom blushed before laughing.   
  
"Come on, Sarah, sweetie, just try it. It'll even be on the house."   
  
And with that declaration, the bar broke into a mass of laughter. Tom was normally cheap. Sarah looked at him with a grin. "Well, someone call the freaking pope in Rome. We got ourselves a bonafide miracle here. Tom Fleetly is giving someone a freak free drink. I should down it really quick." She held the glass experimentally between two fingers, as if it were going to explode any second. A first tentative sip was made, and then she looked up and smiled before taking another sip. "You know, that's pretty damn good."   
  
After saying that, she took another long pull of the drink, finishing almost half of it before Tom clapped his hands with a grin. "So, Tom, what do you call this little piece of heaven?"   
  
"Well, something really special, Indubidably peach cobbler."   
  
Sarah went pale over the glass. "Peach cobbler?" The glass was set down on the counter as Tom and Hecter both stared at her. She spoke softly, her voice a little unsteady. "I just have this thing against peaches is all. You know what, I'm hungry. Tom, me and Hec will both take a steak dinner. I'm even gonna pay. And I'll take a normal Mike's this time."   
  
A little dejected, Tom nodded and walked away before Sarah turned back to her friend. She waved her hands and shook her head, saying, "Don't even ask. So what else did Mama have to say?"   
  
"Well, Maria's finally pregnant..."   
  
Sarah broke in quickly, "She is? Oh my god! That's so great! Tito Hecter!" She reached over and hugged him quickly. His face broke into that dazzling grin before he went on.   
  
"I guess she's known for a while because she knows it's gonna be a girl. Mama's finally gonna have a granddaughter to cuddle after all those boys."   
  
"A girl?! That's so great. I'm so happy for her. For all of you guys!"   
  
"Maria wants you to be the Godmother to her daughter. And she's expecting you to show up to the baby shower. That's gonna be one big ass party, you know."   
  
"I don't know what to say, Hec. I'm so flattered that she wants me. You can tell her she had better start making those brownies of hers right away. I gotta be bribed for my time."   
  
Hecter laughed. "Everyone will be glad to see you again, Sarah. I think my Mother waits for you to come, rather than me."   
  
"I love your mother. I wish I had one like her."   
  
Hecter took a sip of his beer as the food came out, rather quickly. He looked to Tom in amazement, always having to wait an hour for his food. But the owner had the decency to shrug and blush before he said, "What? I know what she eats and she always orders one for you too."   
  
And with that, the food was placed down and Hec picked up a bottle of ketchup and started to tap it over his fries. "Can you believe that? He always makes me wait."   
  
"Well, babe, that's cause you ain't as cute as I am." She reached over and grabbed a french fry off his plate and plopped it in her mouth.   
  
"Yeah, and thank god for that. I don't think you could handle it if I were as butt ugly as you are."   
  
Sarah reached over and smacked him on the arm. "Hey! That ain't nice. Don't make me kick your ass, computer boy!" She smacked him again before he threw up his arms in defeat.   
  
"Come on, cut that shit out, Sarah. Come on, tell me about your family."   
  
Sarah's face instantly went a little colder, a little harder. But Hecter pushed, his mouth almost filled with fries. "You promised me you would. And come on, I feel like I don't know anything about you accept that you can swear better then me and wish you had my family."   
  
Sarah sighed softly, knowing when the battle was lost. "Alright, I'll tell you, but let's go to a booth." Hec nodded and they picked up their baskets and drinks and started to walk over to the vacant booth in the darkest corner of the bar. She sat and rolled the glass around in her hands, eyes down, before she spoke softly. "Are you really sure you wanna hear this, dude? It isn't as pretty as your story."   
  
"I'm sure, babe. And I think you need to talk it out. Something's eating your ass today, and it sure as hell ain't good to let it simmer inside of you."   
  
Something was eating her up, but she couldn't tell him about the dream, she couldn't tell him about the Goblin King and the peaches and crystals. She couldn't deal with someone looking at her like she was totally nuts. So she grit her mind and took a sip of her Mike's for courage.   
  
"Well, I suppose you can say that it all started a long time ago in the Big Apple. My mom was, is, really, an actress. A good one and she was starting to get very famous. She was beautiful and rather spoiled. She always got most anything she wanted. I mean she won a Tony when she was twenty, and people were writing plays for her. They offered her parts in movies, but she never felt they were good enough, and she needed instant acclaim. She needed to be on stage with the glowing applause. I think she needed to be on stage with everything.   
  
"And not only that, but she was a hit at parties. Everyone wanted to have her. They would send flowers to her dressing room and beg her to do concerts and affairs for charities. She loved doing that. I think above all else, my mother loved to feel needed. To feel wanted. And whenever she went to these big, glittering parties, she always played the part of the concerned patron, only wanting the world to be right. But she really didn't give a damn about any of it. Anything accept the fawning which, in her eyes, was a sign of the applause.   
  
"When I was younger, I used to think that love was applause and if you had enough of it, then nothing would ever go bad again. Boy, was I wrong.   
  
"But I'm getting all off track. It was at one of these gleaming parties that mother met Daddy. He was just a huge out-of-place kid in his tweed suit among all of these elegant custom-made tuxes. He really shouldn't have been there. He was just an account for the charity, and they had invited him to present one of those huge, fake checks. But all of them had gone to the play before him. And he had fallen in love with my mother.   
  
"Well, I really think it was the part that she played that night. The character was good and sweet and loving, someone who needed to be protected. My father loves to protect people. So when she was at this party, looking so loving in her simple black, he just fell right over his heels. He followed her around like some sort of puppy. And then finally, she asked him if he would like to go out for some dinner.   
  
"My father almost leapt at the chance. Mother enjoyed the earnestness of him, loving the way he instantly did anything she asked. I think in some way, she really needed to be pampered like that. She had been all her life and didn't know any other way. And all of this was in some great scheme of things, more applause. After all, she was absolutely adored like she was some sort of goddess.   
  
"After they were dating for awhile, but not very long, she wanted to get married. And of course my father, ever the puppy, jumped at the chance too. So they were married in this huge ceremony and the men of New York wept at the loss of Linda Valentine.   
  
"Daddy moved them up to the house in CT and for a while they thought they'd be happy. Mother had given up the lime light and threw herself into the half-assed attempt to keep house and cook. But she was getting more and more bored until finally she decided she wanted a baby. Daddy didn't think that they were ready, but she pouted and whined until she got her way. Mother always got her way.   
  
"And then I was born and suddenly, there was a competition for Daddy's love. At least that's how she saw it. So she got more and more sullen and stopped taking care of things, stopped taking care of me. And then one day her old agent called and she left, vanished into the night. She needed the stage more then she needed a family after all.   
  
"She didn't come to see me, not very often, even though she would write and send Daddy money for me. He put it all in an account for me to have when I got older and I didn't touch it. After awhile, she stopped calling, stopped writing. Stopped caring. And for many years Daddy and I were happy.   
  
"And then he met Karen. Karen was the waitress at the diner we went to every Friday night. I didn't mind her, after all, she was nice. I was happy when he started dating , Karen; I think I was eleven. She was fun, almost like a sister to me, and we did tons of things together. It was great.   
  
"When Dad and Karen got married, it was so cool. I was in the wedding, I was the maid of honor. It was my first time I got to wear a grown-up dress and makeup. I danced and had champagne. I was happy. We were happy. I was almost thirteen when they got married. Things were really good for awhile. Karen and I hung out, and she read me some stories and showed me how to put on makeup and told me about... chick things. You know.   
  
"And then she found out she was pregnant. I guess I'm more like my Mom than I thought because right then, everything started to change. I wasn't number one anymore. I was number two. For nine months she was coddled, and Daddy was always telling me 'Watch out for Karen, she's weak right now.' And I did. I got the lead in the school play. I think it was the Wizard of Oz. I played Dorothy and loved it. But on opening night, no one showed up. Karen had gone into labor.   
  
"Everyone forgot to pick me up, so I waited at the house. Finally at four in the morning, my dad came home. He was all smiles and glowing. He told me his life was complete because he had a son. I had a baby brother. And all day I was shocked. I had thought our life was complete before. When Toby came home from the hospital, everything got ten times worse. I was ignored unless they wanted a babysitter. Karen and Daddy got a new child, and I got a dog.   
  
"That's what I really was at that point in time, but I've grown up from it now. But then, it hurt so bad. Stuff we useda do as three, it was just them and I was watching the baby. Weird things would happen when I was watching him, too. Stuff would move and just general weirdness would go on. And when he was a little over a year old, I found this book and useda beg that it would come true. And finally one night I had this weird dream that it did come true and after that, I knew I had to protect my baby brother. And after that, nothing weird happened like that again.   
  
  
  
"As for me during this time, I grew out of my head-in-the-clouds phase. Before the dream, I always used to believe in fairy tales and stuff like that. But in the dream when it was like coming true. I hated it, nothing was what I expected, what I wanted. When Daddy and Karen were busy with the baby, I started to idolize my mother. I think I used it to hurt Karen. But I put it all away.   
  
"I started to become a straight A student, and joined the Right Flight program for young pilots. I knew what I wanted to be and then joined the Air Force. And so I was normal.   
  
  
"As for Toby... Well, for a long time, he seemed normal. But he was cruel. He would be mean and possessive with his toys and with the girls at school. I can't count how many times we got calls from the school saying that he had broken this or that. One time he had even broken this little girl's nose. He was manipulative but brilliant. He was so smart.   
  
"In High School, he was popular, class president, head of the football team, head of the debate team. In line to be the valedictorian. He was dating the head cheerleader and was named the prom king. On his way to Harvard. He was everyone's golden boy.   
  
"And then one night, the cops showed up at the house. His girlfriend had pressed charges against him. Assault, abuse, stalking, even rape. Everyone was in total shock. No one could believe that it was him who did it. My Dad went over to try to reason with her parents, but even he couldn't argue with the bruises that were all over her. So Toby spent a night in jail, and the next morning he got bailed out. My Dad screamed at him, and all he did was smile. Then he calmly got up and walked out the front door.   
  
"He never came back. My Dad and Karen couldn't handle it. All they did was blame each other. They tried to stick it out, even lasted a year. But they had to call it quits. So both of them have separate lives, I never see them anymore. So I guess I don't have any family. And ta da, the end."   
  
She tore into her steak with gusto, leaving Hecter to stare at her with disbelief. She scarfed it down, heedless to his eyes on her. Finally she finished and looked at him before saying loudly. "I'm still the same, god damn it! Don't you dare pity me, Hecter. I mean it! I'm going home to bed, and I'll see you tomorrow."   
  
And with that, she slammed two twenties on the table and walked out, slamming the door behind her. But she didn't really have any intention of going home. Instead, she turned the car towards Lee's.   
  
She needed some answers for some odd reason, and was sure they'd be found 


	5. Chapter Eight

Title: Yes, Sir

  
  


Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster

  
  


Rating: R

  
  


Comments: If you want to see anymore then you had best comment!

  
  


Archiving: Anywhere you want it. Just let me know.

  
  


Summary: Something original based on a challenge I received.

  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth but this story has A LOT of original ideas inside of it. Please ask before using them.

  
  


A/N: Sorry about this taking so long. My computer ate it and I've been working like a dog. But it will be finished by the end of the year. So help me TIM CURRY. Don't ask.

  
  


Chapter Eight.

  
  


There was a soft crunch of rubber against loosely-packed snow as the Jag pulled into the newly-plowed driveway of the cottage that Toby had rented. Perhaps cottage was too loose a term for the house of logs that stood before Lee, all lit up like a Christmas tree. It looked more like a ski lodge. But it was familiar to her, familiar enough anyway to send a shiver of remembrance down her spine.   
  
As the car pulled up into the circular drive, it skidded, sending snow into the air like an ice-skater. Quickly she whirled around to look at him, and he merely responded with that slow, devil-may-care grin. The car was thrown into park before he spoke, his tone mild and courteous. "I just wanted to make sure you were still awake. After all, I've gone through a great deal of trouble about tonight." And saying that, he opened the door and shut it behind him.  
  
"Bullshit." That was all Lee could manage between barely-moving lips as he circled the car, coming to open the door for her with a great flourish of hands.   
  
"My lady." He bowed slightly and took her hand to assist her from the car, and she knew better than to fight it. It took her back to the time when he was sweet and the actions he took seemed lovely and un-controlling. It really was amazing what a difference time and age can make. She stood uneasily on her heels, hastening to keep up with the pace those giant steps took over the ice-strewn driveway.  
  
Peters, Toby's butler pulled the door open for her, his white hair and eyes almost seeming sterner than normal as he watched her. Determined not to allow that to bother her, Lee squared her shoulders and walked into the foyer of the house. Her face was carefully kept into the iced mask as Toby's strong hands slid up her side to remove the jacket, lingering a little on the curves of her hips. Instead of saying anything that would get her into trouble, she merely shrugged the jacket off and started to walk into the library.  
  
Toby's face tightened and the jacket was locked in a death grip for a moment before he tossed it to Peters, his long legs striding to follow her. She stood there in the center of the room, looking at once in place and out of place with the priceless things that filled his home as always. He loved his possessions almost as much as he loved himself.  
  
He spoke softly, his fingers reaching for the wrist that he had held so tightly in the car. "I wanted everything to be perfect for tonight. Just like it was before. So I've got a surprise for you. I've ordered some of that fabulous lobster from that restaurant we ate at the night I found my family."  
  
Found his family indeed. The night he managed to stalk her like his prey. But instead of reminding him of that, she spoke just as softly. "We're in Alaska, Toby. It's surrounded by water. The seafood here is fantastic."  
  
He didn't reply, only managed to pull his lips back before speaking as if he hadn't heard. "Why don't you take a seat, Lee? I've the one from before, you remember."  
  
Toby half-pushed, half-led her to the large, white chair in the corner, and she fell back into the great white pillows, feeling as always, engulfed. It was a chair very much like this one where she had lost her virginity to him. Her head was pressed to the back of the chair and she sat as straight as she could, but the high back still almost seem seemed to dwarf her. He walked away and towards the sideboard, and the large black bottle of wine that stood there.  
  
That too was very familiar indeed. And her suspicions were confirmed at Toby's words. "Have a glass of wine, Lee. I figured we should go all out tonight. This is the very vintage that we drank the night that our son was conceived. But then again, being as he has that little problem, perhaps it's best that we don't drink it..."  
  
She cut him off quickly, one hand up to deny the wine he had poured into the elegant goblet. "I'm not drinking tonight, Toby. I've learned my lesson. I don't touch the stuff. And furthermore, I'm not going to sleep with you tonight. The only reason I came here was to talk about our son."  
  
"Come on, Lee. What's one little glass of wine?" Slowly, he walked towards her, his brilliant baby-blues almost gleaming with a deadly frost.   
  
"So said the spider to the fly."  
  
"You don't trust me? I'm... hurt. You've wounded me deeply, Lee." He walked slowly around the back of the great chair, the glass he intended for her still clenched tightly in his hand. One arm snaked down, and firmly pressed the glass into her clammy palm before it closed tightly about her fingers as if a master puppeteer working his magic on a stubborn marionette. The other hand slowly moved up her other arm, gently circling her flesh like a snake charmer's wand before a cobra about to strike. Gooseflesh crept up in its wake, and she shuddered slightly.  
  
Toby's hand then moved to the sleeveless top of her dress and lightly pushed at the slightly-worn silk, his fingers moving in a circle, very gently. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his moist breath moving the tendrils at her cheek. "Why are you dressed in rags, Lee? All it would take is one single, little word and all of this ends. No more slaving, no more Alaska..."  
  
Her rosebud lips pursed, tongue pressing forward to make the word that her mind wanted desperately to cast out. But the thought was pressed almost literally from her mind by the slow motion of those fingers as they crept into the hollow at her collar bone, moving in that gentle circular motion. An almost-tease that took her breath away. He experimentally moved his fingers from the hand that was holding the glass to allow it to be brought to her lips, but she didn't. Her own fingers were slack.  
  
As if in answer, the fingers on her collar bone pressed deeper, moved harder. Both a threat and a promise. She gasped slightly at the circles that were almost sure to be bruises tomorrow, but she didn't do anything but take a small sip of the wine. He stepped away from her, a broad grin on his face, one that slowly faded as the glass was placed calmly but firmly on the table beside her. Her hands were clasped in her lap as she spoke softly. "We came here to discuss Lucas. What is it that you want, Toby?"  
  
He stepped away from her, his head shaking slightly. "Lee, I know you love New York. I know how much you love nice dresses and the theatre. I could give you all of those things again..."  
  
"You know Toby, all of your 'gifts' come with a high price." Her voice was bitter and the words were almost spit at him.   
  
"Why are you being so difficult?"  
  
"Maybe that's because it's the way you made me! If you hadn't hunted me down like I was some sort of bitch in heat then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have run!" Lee really wasn't making any sense, but she was furious. She knew something even larger was coming.  
  
"I am taking my son to New York, Lee. With or without you."  
  
And with this new information, Lee was on her feet. "Damn you, Toby! We have a deal! I stay and you leave me alone. Leave us alone!"  
  
The fury in his tone rose to match the fury in her own. "I want my heir, Lee! I want a son, a progeny. And you did something to me so I couldn't! Didn't you, you little bitch? I've fucked so many other woman and all I end up with a simpering little death brat!"  
  
"How dare you speak that way about my son! I don't care if you screw the entire country. You will not take my child!"  
  
"If you won't give me this one, then you will give me another!" Rough fingers pushed her down, back into the chair and then pressed over the fresh bruises from where his fingers were. He climbed on top of her, his inner thighs pressed tightly to her outer ones. Hands twisted and drew back, and he intended on slapping her, but stopped at the look on her face.  
  
"I swear to God, if you ever touch me again, Toby Conner, I will make you wish you hadn't."  
  
He looked so startled that she shoved him off roughly before picking up her purse and coat at the door. With a little grin she picked up the keys to his Jag and slammed the door behind her, leaving in flurry of fifth-gear rubber.  
  
Toby looked at her from the window, his eyes almost on fire. The fingers that had stroked her shoulder were pressed to his lips and they started to glow slightly. Toby didn't notice. "You have been branded by me, Lee, and no one will ever touch you again. And if you have, then I'll make you wish you hadn't."

  



	6. Chapter nine

Title: Yes, Sir  
  
Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster  
  
Rating: R  
  
Comments: If you want to see anymore then you had best comment!  
  
Archiving: Anywhere you want it. Just let me know.  
  
Summary: Something original based on a challenge I received.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth but this story has A LOT of original ideas inside of it. Please ask before using them.  
  
A/N: Sorry about this taking so long. My computer ate it and I've been working like a dog. But it will be finished by the end of the year. So help me TIM CURRY. Don't ask. Thanks for all the comments I've gotten so far, especially JL, Norma, AM and Kitty. Ah lub yew! And guess what! Only two parts to go! About time!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Nine  
  
Sarah's truck moved over the firmly-packed ground, memories scattering through her mind like the heavy blowing of the storm all around her. The storm she was so lost in her thoughts she didn't even know about. It was as if the sky and ground merged effortlessly in a solid mass of pure white. Her fingers shifted over the stick, and the car steering wheel moved as if on it's accord, going faster and more recklessly to Lee's house.  
  
Images kept flooding through her head, dreams she had long ago forgotten. For some reason Toby kept appearing, from the time he was a baby until the time he had... No, she wouldn't think of that now. She couldn't. If she did she would go stark raving mad. No, she decided to set on when he was four. When he was Lucas's age. Lucas, her best friend's kid, her god child. For some reason all she could do was match Toby's impish blue eyes with the boys. Match the slight jutting of the jaw...  
  
"Oh my god..." she whispered it into the vast empty silence of the truck, her whole body tight with some previously-unregistered awareness. "Oh my god." Toby.... Toby and Lee? Was it even thinkable?   
  
Suddenly out of the white came a black shadow, almost swooping down from the sky. Large and looming the tree stood there, directly in the oncoming truck's path. Sarah let out a scream at the sight of the tree which was coming closer, moving faster then the racing of her thoughts. Instinctively she pulled the wheel sharply to the right, the truck twisting with a sickening lurch. For a moment all she could do was close her eyes and pray as she gripped the wheel.  
  
For a moment it seemed that she would make it, and the road lay before her blessedly vacant. And then the world seemed to shatter into the heart-wrenching sound of the screech of tearing metal and shattering glass. Sarah screamed, but the wind that blew through the now-open truck snatched the sound from her. Sarah's head hit the windshield before bouncing backwards, and she was claimed by blessed blackness. She gave into it gratefully.   
  
Cold. Cold and wet. That was what Sarah awoke to. The feel of snow and ice settling over her now chilly now-chilly skin. She groaned and blinked, slowly stretching out the fingers that had been gripping the steering wheel, and she winced at every flex of her fingers. She arched her back and winced again, feeling as if she had been hit by a truck. Or in this case a tree.   
  
She pulled the door handle to her truck, but it wouldn't work. She swore at it, pressed against it with her shoulder, slamming it and only managing to jam her shoulder. Again she swore before looking at the window. She reached down and pressed the power windows and nothing happened. "Screw this, I am not dying in my car in the freezing cold."  
  
She gritted her teeth and pulled up her leather parka-wrapped arm and punched it through the driver side window. It broke with a satisfying crack, and she pushed the glass out of the frame. She kicked her legs onto the seat before climbing through the window and hitting the glass on the snow. Sarah winced and pulled her hands up, her fingers bleeding and staining the snow below her.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" She screamed it before going over and kicking the tire to her truck. Quickly she pulled her gloves out of her pocket and started walking down to road to Lee's house.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Alex/ Jareth, for who could even tell what guise he was in at this point, strolled rather nonchauntly down the steps, liking the feel of the old stairs that creaked under his light weight. Sometime being mortal had such advantages. Well, acting mortal was the more appropriate term. The Goblin King would never suffer the indignity of becoming a mere mortal.  
  
He moved through the house, flicking the lights on and off, marveling, as always, at how humans lived without the power of magic. And finally he walked into the kitchen and pulled out the tray of peach cobbler. As he took a bite he wondered, not for the first time, if taking Mrs. Buchanon down Underground was something he wanted to deal with. After all, the woman was such a wonderful cook, and Lucas would need someone he knew to make him feel at home.  
  
After so long, the curse from so long ago would be filled. The Goblin King would finally have it all. The Heir he needed, the power that was trapped in the Bog of Stench and a never-ending source of amusement in the upbringing of the boy. And now all he needed was some ice cream. He took and waved his hand over the peach cobbler in the bowl and the vanilla ice cream appeared. It was good, he decided, to be the Goblin King.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Lee sped over the roads, her body positively shaking with the joy she was feeling. She couldn't believe the look on his face when she had shoved him off her. She couldn't remember the last time she felt such happiness. Quick fingers flicked the radio dial. She winced as the sound of Faust trembled through the state-of-the-art sound system. She grimaced with disgust before turning the channel and settling on a loud, robust song that fit her mood better.  
  
She started to sing along, her whole body shifting into the motion. She was free. No thought was given to tomorrow, she couldn't think of the fact that she was in his car, with his radio. Lee was just so proud of herself. For a minute she wondered where Sarah was hiding. For the first time in her life, she wanted someone to know all of the secrets in her life.  
  
The car pulled around with ease and she kept singing and tapping all the way to Space Oddity.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Parr sat at the desk of his office. All he could do was stare at the seat that had been so recently vacated. In his head all he could do was replay the scene with the person who ran his life for so many years. The general stood up and slowly started to pace back and forth, having something he could never recall in his life having before: an attack of conscience. He had never felt guilty about anything in his life.  
  
The vile mists of cocaine had faded, that artificial fulfillment seeping away leaving him with the dregs of his soul. All he could do was walk back to his desk and stare at the picture of the beautiful girl before him. She hadn't really done anything but be strong under all the pressure that he himself had caused her. 'Not he alone of course,' he thought bitterly. 'Good old boss man had his hand in it too.' She really had no idea what they had in store for her.   
  
He got up and started to pace again, his hands clenched at his sides as his brow coated with sweat. Slowly he went to the phone and picked it up, looking at the glowing numbers before speaking out loud. "God help me, Sarah Williams, I've done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but I've never let a soldier of mine be used as a pawn."  
___________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
The man sat in his office, watching Parr on the camera that was hidden in the general's office. It seemed that his little puppet had finally grown some balls after all. Grown some balls and developed a pesky, little conscience. He couldn't have that, not now and not ever. And a mouse with a spine must be shown out of its cupboard or it can't crawl through the hole. And not only that, but his family still needed protecting.   
  
And no one wanted the truth to come out. That wouldn't be good for anyone. Finally the decision was reached and slowly he slid the key in the lock for his desk drawer. There, gleaming directly above Parr's code black personal file was the shiny revolver he had brought all those years ago when the problem had started. He felt almost relieved to hold it against his leathered palm now.  
  
One by one the gleaming bullets were packed into the chamber, a savage grin on his face. Each one was caressed until the silver gleamed, as if he was naming it, urging it to come to rest in the new home he had chosen. A calm malice had settled in now, neatly devouring any thoughts of mercy. After all, when a dog gets rabid, you put it down. In his mind, this was what he was doing now...  
  
The numbers on the phone almost seemed to burn against Parr's fat fingers, as if the gods themselves didn't want him to dial the number to warn the girl. He gasped, his body suddenly becoming tight. So far tonight the General was finding another sensation that unnerved him. He was scared. It was almost as if the very air around him quivered with the fear that she was about to find out the truth. Find out the truth and he would be punished.  
  
And then, at long last the phone began to ring. And ring. And ring. The phone just kept ringing and ringing. "Damn it, Williams," he muttered. "Answer your fucking phone! I'm trying to do the right thing here."  
  
"You," said that sardonic all-too-familiar voice, coming from just right behind him, "trying to do the right thing? Come on, Parr, I thought much more highly of you."  
  
The general paled, giving him an almost-mottled, cream appearance. His mouth worked quickly, opening and closing, making him seem almost like a trout. Deep inside of him, Parr cold almost feel the smooth caress of fear work itself down his newly-grown spine. Fingers clenched the phone as he placed it down on the desk, hoping that she would answer, and she would hear. "S-s-s-sir, what brings you here twice in one night?"  
  
"Why, you, of course, what else would bring me here? After all, one cannot leave strings attached when the plan is coming so close to its conclusion."  
  
"Conclusion? You mean this is nearly done?" He swallowed again, he managed to squeak, trying very hard not to think was coming for him. After all, he was being rather unattached with his currant action. "Does this mean we are finally about to be rid of the damned Fae?"  
  
"It could mean that, if my loyal, and I do mean that in the loosest sense of the word, little henchman didn't have a little attack of morality. It's a most unbecoming trait on you, Brian. After all, one who feels for the mice shouldn't remove the cheese from the trap. After all... he'll be overridden with rodents. And rodents bring disease with them!"  
  
The man took a step forward with each thundered word, his face almost vacant except for the mania that had descended like a vulture in his eyes. His expression shifted suddenly as the underling spoke once again.   
  
"A m-m-mouse trap?" And Parr was feeling decidedly caught at that moment. His glaze shifted, as if his eyes were following the bouncing ball back and forth from the door and the man who stood before him. All he could do was silently wish that he hadn't told his secretary to take the night off. Fingers twisted and nostrils pulled up. Parr wished he hadn't used the last of his coke. If he was going to die now, at least he could have done it high.  
  
The other man watched the panicked musing of the broken man before him, almost in the same manner that a bear watches a trout. "Surely the coke hasn't muddled your brain too much, Parr. I'm running out of use for you already. I guess we could say that your time here depends on how much you amuse me."  
  
"Sir, please don't blame me for my weakness. It's just that..."  
  
"That what? That she's pretty? That she can be sweet? That she can be fiery? That you think about her when you screw your wife?" His fist banged against the desk, and he was rapidly losing whatever manner of sanity he had clung to before. "She's part of them! She has that tainted blood in her whether she knows it or she doesn't! I don't give a damn! She's a weapon to be used and nothing more! And you, Parr, are not amusing me anymore!"  
  
Resolve steeled in his eyes and the shaking of his hands ended, the descending calm almost seeming to make this look normal. Lips twisted into a slow smile as the gun was pulled from the place where it had rested. Slowly, as if he was offering a pen, the gun was raised to eye level of the man sitting opposite. Parr didn't sweat, or he didn't beg. No matter what else he did, he promised he wouldn't beg. The whine of the click was made as the gun cocked, almost as if it hated the job that it needed to do.  
  
And finally, Parr became desperate. One hand settled over the residue that the powder had left on his desk and he moved it to his mouth, course warmth sliding over the mesa like a cat. He spoke softly. "But if she is a half Fae and should be killed for that, then so should your grandson. His father is one of them."  
  
Buchanon almost roared, the calm sliding out of his eyes like the sun when it was eclipsed by the moon. Darkness had settled in, and darkness was the only answer he knew. His voice was a mockery of the tremor that shifted through his hands. "Lee was raped by that bastard. My daughter and my grandson are blameless. Lucas will be normal as soon as I kill all of the others. The virus will be dead."  
  
Parr interrupted, hoping logic would somehow spare him. "No, if you do that, it will make him the most powerful one there is. Do you really want to be blamed for..."  
  
But we would never hear what the blame would be taken. The answer was the tearing hiss of silver as it cut through the air with its deadly song. Flesh collapsed as the bullet hit the center of man, spreading gray matter on the wall behind him as a testimony to what a man had to do to save his family.  
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And finally weary steps found Sarah on the endless street that the Buchanons lived on. At once she gave a little yelp of excitement that she was finally there before she looked down the street with terrible fear. The only light that gave illumination was the soft, falling white that reflected in the light of the full moon. There was no noise, only the sound of silence upon silence upon silence. She never even noticed how long this street was when she was locked in the warm safety of the car.  
  
The cold was descending on her, deep with seductive promises of sleeping and bringing dreams of warmth with her. It was eerie how there was no wind, and yet, she could feel it sliding in ribbons down her back and over her wounds. Her hands had stopped seeping blood now, and she wondered for a moment if in the morning someone would follow a trail of scarlet drops to her frigid body.  
  
But she wouldn't let it beat her. Damn it, Sarah Williams had beaten the odds before and all it would take now was a little bit of pushing. Lee's house was on this road, and that was enough. She knew someone would have to be home there. And her best friend's mother would more then likely ply her with soup and brandy-laced coffee until she was warm.  
  
And that thought spun before her, hope leading her like a ball of magic yarn cast before her like in a fairytale of old. One foot was forced in front of the other; even though she couldn't feel the ground below her, she knew it was there. Home and safety were repeated with each thought, with each baited breath. One minute became five, five became ten, ten became thirty, and thirty became an hour.  
  
It seemed to Sarah that she hadn't moved.  
  
The scenery before her and on either side of her was still the same. She was starting to give up. One not-there foot was stomped to the ground, whether in anger or in an effort to get some feeling, we may never know. But what did happen was she fell back to the ground, tumbling soundlessly against the cold pressed powder like a applicator to a compact.  
  
Taupe skin fell forward, hiding her eyes from the tear stained sky above her. She didn't even see the flakes that were wrapping about her like a leeching goose down comforter. Chestnut hair spread against the snow, cradling her almost. The cold was rapidly seducing the heat from her body, and taking the thoughts away with it.   
  
Then above her, a ribbon of colored light appeared, almost neon against her thin skin. She groaned loudly, her fingers fumbling in the snow, longing to reach for her face to act as a shield. Stinging pain started to work itself through her muscles, the skin tightening with the promise that lethargic bleakness that spread over her chest. If only she could make the light go away.  
  
A groan was made, her voice wheezing like the scratching on a Rap record. "Somebody turn that fucking light off, I'm trying to sleep."   
  
But the light didn't listen, instead the color shifted, spun around her eyeball, like when you press your lids to too tight. Another groan was made, louder this time and she wiggled her other arm in the white prison that had formed with each flake. Stiffened fingers pressed to her eyes, making the light seem brighter then ever. Anger spurned her, making her hips slowly rock back and forth, making her toes curl up. Adrenaline swept through the chilled canals, making her fight her way forward from the darkness.  
  
When Sarah opened her eyes, all she could do was barely blink. Above her head, the Northern Lights bloomed, moving as if being drawn by a child's hand in glitter. The snow around her seemed unmarked, her footprints eaten by the silent advance of the storm. She moaned as she pulled herself into a sitting position, the snow around her gleaming as if it had been touched by the gold fairy. She smiled dreamily for a moment, picturing a room covered in glitter as it spun around her.  
  
Acts of fantasy and illusion pulled her forward, the cold spurning her on like the singing kiss of a whip. Ribbons and bows extended before her, like some odd looking yellow brick road. But it worked. It made her take steps forward to Lee's house.  
  
And it was there before she knew it.  
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The Jag pulled into Space Oddity, anticipation settling over Lee. She was worried, frightened and... exhilarated. She couldn't believe the truth, the lies, and the end was finally here. A defiant swish cast itself about her hips as she entered the bar, a smoldering stare hitting all the men in there with an almost-tangible caress. Baby pink tiers twisted and reshaped into that barely seen smile, dimples and all.   
  
She didn't bother to do anything juvenile, like stand there in the doorway, waiting to be admired. Instead she just strolled right up to the bar and pulled her coat off with an almost-swish. Tom's jaw fell, and for a moment, Lee wondered if his tongue would roll out in the stereotypical manner of all the breathless men in cartoons. A little giggle was made as she almost pirouetted with delight.   
  
She felt younger then she had the day Toby had wandered through the streets and spotted her lugging her backpack full of books. How stupid she was then... But that was not to be thought about now. Instead she spoke, and she sounded younger as well. "Jeez, Tom, pick up your jaw here. Ya would think you hadn't ever seen me before."  
  
"Well, babe, I've seen ya, but never looking as good as this." The glass he had been drying was about to be shattered from the strength of his grip, and she smiled again. "Lee, can I get ya a drink? I got a new one Sarah seemed to like."  
  
A little shift of spine was made and she nodded. "Sure, I'll have a drink. And speaking of Sarah, where the hell is she? I have something to tell her. Something's that needed telling for a long time."  
  
Tom snorted. "It seems to be a night for telling long tales. Sarah was sitting in the booth with Hec for a good coupla hours tonight. And she was the one doing most of the talking. When she was done all he did was stare at her, and then she got all mad and stormed off. I'm thinking whatever she said made her pretty upset."  
  
"Is Hecter still here? I gotta know what's going on. I'm worried all of a sudden." She didn't look worried, not in Tom's opinion, but he didn't say anything. Instead the drink was placed down and he pointed to the back of the bar where the other man had been drinking since Sarah had left in such a hurry. She gave another nod and started to turn away, but was called back by his voice.  
  
"Lee, I gotta new drink. Wanna give it a go?"  
  
"Sure, Tom, I'll try it. Bring it to the table." Slowly she walked over to the table and reached down, touching Hecter on the arm. She spoke softly, her voice an almost-hum to be lost in the din. " Heya, babe. What's going on? Where's Sarah?"  
  
Hecter looked miserable as he was pulled back from his silent reprieve. He was pensive and lost in his thoughts after the conversation with Sarah. All of things he never knew, all of the jokes he made, how they must have hurt her. But she never said anything. He never admired her so much as he did at that moment. Blink, blink and then Lee came back into technicolor focus. He smiled at her, rising from his chair to stand.   
  
As she stepped forward to take the seat opposite, he gave a low whistle. "Damn, Lee, you look good! Why are you so gussied up?"  
  
Tom came over and set the drink down next to her hand, and opened his lips to speak, but was quickly silenced by Hecter's glare. Lee looked uncomfortable for a moment before replying. "I hadda see Lucas's father tonight. He gets a little upset if I don't look good for him when he's in town." The matter-of-fact way that she said it almost made his heart break.. But then, reminding herself of the outcome of tonight, she shook her head. But that doesn't matter to me anymore. "Where's my best friend?"   
  
"She left, I made her talk tonight..." He sighed, hating himself for doing it all over again. He couldn't forget the haunted look in her face. The look that she was hiding something else. Something worse then than what he had told her already. Lee sipped her drink, for want of something better to do with her hands. They seemed to too warm for some reason, and the ice in the glass felt good.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
"She told me about her family, about her mom and her asshole kid brother." Lee blinked, this was a story that she hadn't heard either. Secrets seemed to run rampant around her. Another sip of her drink was made, and then another and before she knew it half of the glass was gone.  
  
"You know, this drink is really good. Tom, can I have another, please?" She nodded to the bartender before looking back to the astonished Hecter. Slowly he patted her hand.  
  
"Come on, Lee, you're not a drinker and that's got tons of booze in it. Why don't you have something else?"  
  
She pulled her hand away quickly, almost feeling a tightness deep in her chest. Annoyed fingers thrust over the spot, pulling at the fabric. "Why the hell do I feel so hot?" Another sip of her drink was made, hoping the cool liquid would help the heat that built up in her chest.  
  
Hecter followed the actions of her hands, looking more and more alarmed with each second. "Honey, you need to calm down. The rum in the drink can make you hot. Why don't you just let me have it?" Finger closed about hers, trying to pull the drink away.   
  
When he looked up at the table, he was amazed by what he saw. Lee's face had filled with color. She was crimson and her hand was once again pressed to her chest. She was panting, her chest rising and falling in an obscure rhythm. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. "Lee, calm down, honey. Take a big deep breath. Tom, someone call medics quick!"  
  
She pushed his hand off of hers, fighting to pull away from all of the attention she was receiving. At the absence of the touch, her breath was coming easier. She stood up shakily, taking the drink out of Tom's hands and finishing it in one big swallow. "I'm fine. I just gotta go home." A little swirl was made as if to go out the door and she started to fall.  
  
He caught her, his fingers wrapping about her shoulders. Lee struggled for a moment, but when he touched the place Toby had rubbed so forcefully, she let out a scream. The pain spread from the old bruises, casting out over her flesh, her very blood almost seeming to burn her. She whimpered, tears rolling down her face as she fought to free herself from the loving arms that restrained her. She almost growled as she pulled herself into a standing position, turning to glare at them. "Don't touch me, don't anyone fucking touch me. He did this to me! I don't know what it is, but he did it!"   
  
And leaving them agape, she turned and ran out of the bar, slamming the door behind her.  
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Alex was pulled from his silent brooding by the thunderous tap of a light knock at the door. He was surprised that he hadn't sensed someone at the door before this. It could only mean one thing. That Sarah girl was back. He shrugged slightly as he moved to get the door, not really caring that it was her now. Quickly he pulled it open and all he could do was stare at the mess of a girl who barely stood before him.  
  
Her hair was stuck every which way and fairly coated with a thin layer of blue ice. Her face seemed almost purple, darker where the blood from her cuts had dried. It was the same with her body. He wondered for a moment if Sarah really was alive, but he could sense the faint heartbeat that still moved her chest.  
  
All he wanted to do was slam the door, but a quick glare to the clock told him that she wouldn't be dead by the time Mrs. Buchanon returned tonight. And the last thing he needed was to be questioned about why her daughter's best friend was dead on the doorstep. He groaned, not really caring one way or another. But Lee would be sad if she died, and he really didn't need something else to work through other then Toby.  
  
One hand was extended over her body, and he used magic to carry her inside and settle her on the sofa. With great boredom, he used his magic to heal some of her more serious wounds. He stroked the fire and covered her with blankets trying to make her warm. Warmth was the most important thing for now. Slowly she started to come to, images coming back into focus.  
  
And she saw Alex standing over her. She blinked, a little wince made at the touching. Funny, she had never figured Alex to be the sort of guy to save anyone else's life. Not unless there was something in it for him. She really didn't give a damn one way or another, but was determined to be grateful for his help, no matter what. But she didn't let him know that she was awake.  
  
He shifted, standing next to her as he moved to take her shirt off. Fingers moved with businesslike precision, and he didn't even look. He had no interest in the appearance of this silly, little mortal girl. If she had been awake, perhaps he would have taken a look to make her nervous, but he didn't give a damn now.   
  
But him not looking WAS making her nervous. She shifted slightly, looking at him as he was backlit by the colored lights that were seeping in the window under the barrier of the shade. Another picture had superimposed itself on the one before her. She gasped as the pictures seemed to swirl with the lights.   
  
Words broke the silence of her labored breathing, an accusation and a curse. "You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King."  
  
Feelings of all those years ago came rushing back and she fainted once again, lost amid the place that she thought was a dream and the place she thought was reality. 

  



	7. Chapter Ten

Title: No Sir

  
  


Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster

  
  


Rating: R for language

  
  


Archive: Sure, anywhere you want it just let me know where it is. 

  
  


Feedback: The author is a feedback whore!

  
  


Summary: A challenge given to me by Norma the Unicorn Lady. It's all her fault. 

  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or Sarah or Jareth. I do own the idea of the fighter pilot though. Uh, don't sue me or I might have to kick your ass. 

  
  


A/N Thanks to the cool people who helped me right this and to Abbey for being cool. 

  
  


Chapter Ten  
  
Toby stared out the window, anger feeling like the crush of a compactor as it pulled through his veins. He couldn't stand the fact that she was stepping into the light beyond the reach of that broad, silken thumb. After all, he had done anything she had ever asked of him. And more. She had ran, so he chased her with all due certainty. And now to have her treat him like this...  
  
The image in the window changed, and for the barest of seconds he saw her as she used to be. be: the shy, retiring image that had called him to her like the rich wail of the siren's song. And she knew it. That was the thing that really killed him. She knew that she had the effect on him. It was there in the betraying twist of that softened smile, the curve of those properly demure eyes.  
  
A flash of shadow, as sunlight played over her chestnut hair, making her seem as if she was kissed by the goldenness of a halo. If he closed his eyes, just enough so he was glaring from underneath those thick lashes, he could see her, laying back against the softness of the angora blanket he had brought with them on the picnic. The soft lull of the mosquitoes that broke in and out of the chilled Alaskan summer filled the air, and he could see himself laughing at her joke as he slowly started to pour the wine into that large glass.  
  
He could see the uncertainty that flashed behind her eyes, the little doubt that crept its way slowly into her heart. The way that the alcohol slowly presses against that wall of inhibition. But there was also that earnestness, the eagerness to please. How he had laughed as he pressed the glass to the light stain of virgin tiers. "Just a taste, you'll love this."   
  
Just a taste, and then just a glass, and then it was another. Slowly the moral grip on that steely straightness of broomstick was loosened and she laughed. Nothing was surprising her anymore. Not even when his chilled lips pressed to hers and started to leech the warmth there away from her. Fingers tangled in the mass of chestnut at the base of her neck, spreading the silk loosely over her shoulders.   
  
Digits locked, wrenching her mane, using it to pull her towards him with a dizzying force. Her mouth opened in a little gasp of pain before his tongue entered between her lips, filling her mouth instantly. She gasped at the prodding, the demanding that had moved from her hair down over her white, tank-top-covered breasts. He squeezed them, and her face shot through with that carnal crimson.   
  
Toby was intoxicated by the kiss, even more so than by any of the drugs he had tried. The innocence was wrapping about his lust and caressing it, coaxing it to heights he had never been to before. Raw corruption filled his gaze, his eyes heating to a point where the azure was almost molten. It was filling her with heat. A painful touch of engulfing fire. A hand left too long in a flame.  
  
It scared her. This new darkness of Toby's was frightening her almost to death. Soft pads of warm mesa pressed against his chest, pushing him away from her. Her lips felt bruised, burned almost by the touch that he had pressed there. She spoke softly, all of her effort going into one word, one simple syllable. "No..."  
  
But for Toby the word was a trigger and his body filled with the need to have her now. Slowly he pushed her back onto the blanket, liquor and need clouding the normal smell of pine fresh mint. She gasped as he slowly kissed down her neck, fingers fumbling against the jeans of her shorts. He pressed his lips to her again, speaking softly. "You belong to me, you always have, and you always will.."  
  
And with that, he plunged into her with a moan.  
  
And the memories flitted through his mind, clogging with the rage of her standing before him tonight. His fist balled up, tightening with the need that he felt. Fuck her or kill her, he didn't even know at that moment. Perhaps some perverse combination of both. A roar of anger and want filled with him, and he punched through the window image of her.   
  
One bitch or another, he would get some tonight, and he grabbed his jacket from the manservant who stood there. "Why doesn't she love me, Peters? I do everything I can for her, and she treats me like this... That little bitch."  
  
Peters spoke dryly, his Russian accent making the words seemed more harsher than he had intended. More forceful. "Well, sir, if I were you, I would go after her and make her return here with the child to fulfill her wifely duties. After all, a wife can do no less than she is bidden to by the law. This is abandonment."  
  
Toby spoke just as sharply back, his fingers closing over the fabric of the jacket. "She isn't my wife..." And then that look of dawning came across his face. "Yet. Peters, get the chaplain from the base. She will be my wife, and then I will take her to New York with me, and that lunatic father of hers won't be able to stop me."  
  
Eyes were set firmly as the thoughts tumbled about his head like a washer with a heavy load. After all, she hadn't wanted anything to do with him when he first got here, and now they had Lucas. It was only a matter of doing what he wanted....  
  
And he just had to find her.  
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Sarah shifted, the dream rushing towards her with a deadly force. She saw it all in a blurring detail. The cleaners as they bore down on her and Hoggle, the worm that was hidden in LSD-laced peach. Everything, Jareth had stolen her brother, and after that, Toby was never the same kid. He was always... darker. As if there was something waiting in the wings to take over his body.   
  
She could almost feel the sleek follow of azure granite that greeted her movements, the way Toby always wanted to come in when she was dressing or in the shower. As a child she indulged him, indulged the way he would introduce her to his friends as his 'woman'. But it was scaring her. He had started to scare her. She was glad when she went off to college, when she had joined the air force. And then the incident that she didn't dare tell anyone about. The one where he was in high school. A freshmen and it was Christmas.  
  
He had climbed in bed with her and started to take down her pajamas. She had fought him, kicking him from her and to the floor. His eyes almost seemed to flame at her and the words that he spoke echoed through her head even to this day. "It's nothing more than my right, Sarah. After all, you had wanted to fuck the Goblin King. You made me what I am."  
  
And after that she had ran. And never looked back. Not until this moment.  
  
It all started to make sense. It was all Jareth's fault. The anger at the loss of the innocent, little boy filled her, and she thought of what it would mean with him being here at Lee's house. At his taking care of the boy who was her nephew. The cycle she thought she had broken with Toby's 'rescue' Toby's curse was back. It made her want to weep. She looked to the man she had thought was so good to Lee from under sleek lashes, hating him with every fiber of her body.  
  
But his back was turned from her. He could sense that something had happened, was happening with Lee. Something he didn't like. He could feel the old powers returning, almost floating in the air for anyone to take in like a rush of pollen. Toby had "marked" Lee, that much he was sure about. Now for a male's touch on her would mean her death. Even if that touch was the one of her son.  
  
Lips twisted and he couldn't help but be full of smile. This was the best thing for him. Toby and all of his untapped power would be here. He would kill Lee eventually, that much Jareth was certain of. It was the deadly temper that all of the Fae line had been cast down. And frankly, he was amazed that the linage was as vast as it was with it. Some deep down, ancient need to want to screw your family that was so well hidden now.  
  
He didn't even dwell on the fact that Sarah was the Sarah from Toby. He didn't care one bit. She was nothing but a means to an end. He didn't even notice that she was awake, nor could he feel the heat of the glare that shifted up his back. And before he knew what was happening, he felt the pounding rush of flesh against flesh. In awe, he shifted around just in time to see Sarah's well-trained fist come slamming into the bridge of his nose.   
  
And in that instant, it didn't matter that he was the goblin king who was only masking as a mortal. It didn't matter that he could move the stars with his power if he wanted to. All that mattered was that this little, weak, mortal, girl had DARED put her fists to him. So he acted in the normal way. He hit her back, his backhand slamming into her mouth with enough force to make her almost see stars.   
  
She fell to the floor, sliding almost across it. But the righteous anger made her have strength she normally wouldn't, and Sarah was on her feet in almost an instant. She didn't even put her fingers to the warm string of crimson that was coloring her pale face; all she did was glare at him, deep orbs filled with a smoldering fire as she slowly moved her leg to stand in an attack position.  
  
Jareth laughed. A real, throw-your-head-back-belly laugh. He couldn't help it at the look she was giving him. And who did she think she was anyway? He was the almighty Goblin King. He didn't take that from anyone.  
  
But that laughter had made her angrier, and she twisted her hips around, coming at him with a sweeping kick. The Goblin King fell forward, landing on his back. She kicked him again, the toe of her boot connecting with the corner of his eye. Jareth roared in pain. Sarah was laughing now as she pulled herself over him, her knee driving straight into his groin.  
  
Jareth was vexed. Very vexed. He reached up to his mouth, amazed to find that a small thread of blood had fallen down his chin. Instinctively, he pulled his knees up, wanting to roll into the fetal position at the blow to his private parts, but Sarah wasn't having that. Instead she leaned forward on him, her elbows slamming into the soft flesh of his chest. She applied pressure, a grin as she came forward so she was almost nose to nose to him.  
  
And then that little, pink serpent wiggled forward, past those smooth lips, the tip just gently flicking the point of his nose back and forth. She grinned at him, before sharp, pearly whites nibbled, teasingly at the tip. "You know what, Goblin King? It's too bad you never got over your thing for me. But then... you weren't man enough to love me anyway. " She knew she was being totally outlandish and yet she didn't give a damn.. This was the only thing she could hold on to now.  
  
Jareth had enough. Not only was this little bitch daring to fight with him, fist to fist, but now she was taking credit for things she had no control over? Not in this lifetime. It was time for Sarah to know a few things. He pulled his arms out from under hers and slammed his fist into that pretty little pout before kicking his legs up, sending Sarah crashing into the wall.   
  
She winced as she hit, little visions of Ludo calling rocks around her head. She put a hand to her lip and tried to roll over, but not before Jareth kicked her good and hard in the ribs. "You really shouldn't talk about things that you have no idea of. It's not becoming and makes you look like a fool. And it's a fool you are, Sarah. All the time it's you thinking that you won, when it was never about you to begin with."  
  
Pain was making Sarah's head cloudy and she gave herself a little shake, more pain sliding through her body. But this pain was good, sharp as wit, it made her focus. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"You really had no idea, did you? Oh dear, it's just too delightful. All this time you actually thought that you were the target of everything I did? It's too funny!" Again he laughed, the sound cutting through Sarah like if she was laying, exposed over broken glass.   
  
"Why do you keep talking? Do you like the sound of that dumb ass, fake British accent?"   
  
The response for that remark was another kick to her ribs before he grabbed her by the nape of hair at her neck. "I did promise to explain, didn't I? And I never break my promises, not when they're so much fun to keep. And fun is all I have, Sarah. No love, no sex. Just the fun I have when I look into a pair of eyes and see all the hope come crashing out of them. I EAT that look ,Sarah, and crave it as you crave the idea that someone powerful and dark could fall in love with you."  
  
"It isn't true!" The words were torn from her lips the way the tendrils of hair were ripped from her skin as she twisted away from him. "It's not true. The stories aren't all lies."  
  
" Oh, but they are, my sweet. Every little story that you find in some old, torn bookshop, every lusty story on a web page, every little tale that some dumb girl tells to allow her to sleep at night is a lie. And the biggest lie of all is love." He sneered as he pressed her body against the couch, flashing eyes almost blocking everything else in her vision as his fingers started to close around her windpipe.   
  
"Love is the worst one of all. Love this and love that and love never dies. Well, love always dies. It never lasts. I last and I see how pretty young girls fed on love, letting it fluff their hearts and then I see it eat them, a parasite that sucks their beauty and their grace from them. Love, love is the biggest lie that man invented to make himself seem like there was something that could make everything right in the end.  
  
"Nothing makes it alright. You fooled yourself into making it seem like I loved you. Well, I didn't. A long time ago an idiot made a mistake and took something that belonged to me. And your little running of my Labyrinth, all of that came from what was inside your pretty, empty head. You wanted someone like your mother's lover to come and take you away, so that is what I looked like.  
  
"The crystals, you always did like shiny things. The Labyrinth, the walls, all of your friends. They all came from things inside your room, inside your head. You were utterly alone and yet you still felt loved. And then you thought you won. You may have taken Toby back with you, but he came back different and twisted, didn't he, Sarah? He came back my heir."  
  
Sarah was choking now, her face was starting to look blue as the vision almost seemed twisted. Her fingers twisted around his hands, trying to fight the grip that held tight to her. A shake of head was made, her mind not believing the things he had said, and yet knowing them all at once.  
  
"Oh, yes, Sarah. A promise broken. You told him you'd keep him safe. What a lie. And then he got worse and worse, and it's all your fault. But the best thing is, the brother you love so much, he isn't even yours. He's no relation to you or that sad little family. A mistake. That's all you are, that's all the great life-rending trip to the labyrinth was, and that's what your family is. Some little mistake to get a Fae heir. And now he doesn't even give a damn about..."  
  
Jareth's tirade was broken by the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. 


	8. Chapter Eleven. (The end.)

  
  


Title: Yes, Sir  
  
Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster  
  
Rating: R  
  
Comments: Please do! I am a comment whore and I want to know what you thought about how it all turned out.  
  
Archiving: Anywhere you want it. Just let me know.  
  
Summary: Something original based on a challenge I received.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth but this story has A LOT of original ideas inside of it. Please ask before using them.  
  
A/N: And Ta Da, we have finally come to the very last chapter in my story. Thanks to all the cool people who are to great in number to list. I couldn't have done it without you. I'm really wanting to see what ya'll thought so please let me know!  
  


  
  
  
  


Chapter Eleven  
  
Jareth didn't even turn around at that faint whine of metal sliding against metal with the promise of a deadly aria. The grip on Sarah's neck was broken though as he stood slowly up, pulling her with him. She gasped slightly, her body trying to fall back to the couch. The voice behind them broke out, snapping like a hooker's G-string. "Come on, old man, turn around. We have some business to settle."  
  
"Business? What business could that be? Our business ended a long time ago. I'm actually amazed that you even remember our little meeting. You were so young." And then he turned around, holding Sarah tightly in front of him, his grip anything but gentle.   
  
Toby stood there, the gun almost merging with the Armani leather he wore over his coat. One slender digit rested on the trigger, but he held it with a loose wrist, almost as if it were a prop for a play. A mere toy. His azure eyes were almost murky with the anger that was spreading from him in almost-visible waves. His chin was cast forward, making the shadows that fell across his face seem almost like the war paint of an ancient Spartan warrior.  
  
"Actually, Jareth, I didn't remember you. I couldn't thanks to the spell you put on me so many years ago. You turned me into a lusting beast, but I can't blame you for that. I enjoy it... very much. But to stay on subject, it was actually my blood that woke my memories. It called to me. It made me aware of every little thing you've been pulling for all these years. And you've been a very naughty boy, stealing my family's power and sticking it all into that awful Bog of Stench of yours.  
  
"But that was very clever, holding it so you never got old and lame. And the labyrinth you set up to amuse yourself. That's rather fun as well. Perhaps it's too bad that Sarah hadn't lost and left me to you. But then again, who knows how you would have tried to twist me. The way you've twisted my son? Let go of the girl now. I know I can't kill you with this, any more than you can kill me, but I don't want the whole town stepping in to watch the show."  
  
The gun was waved slightly, back and forth before Jareth grinned and pushed Sarah across towards the man she had thought was her brother for so long. Toby grabbed her quickly and pulled her towards him. His tongue crept forward and slid over her neck, almost in the same manner that she had teased Jareth earlier. The hand with the gun crept down towards the crouch of her jeans and he made an almost "Mmmmmmmm" sound.   
  
Her stomach blanched even more then the rush of blood to her brain had caused. She rolled her head away from his granite grip and tried to go loose at the knees, but he caught her, his fingers sliding over the flesh at her breasts. She gritted her teeth, her feet kicking at him, but it had no effect. It was almost as if his body had been carved from the marble he always looked like he belonged in.  
  
"You know, I always had a thing for you, Sarah. I guess in some perverse way, you made me what I am today. But there'll be time for games later. After all, Lee will need a friend when we get to New York, and Lucas will need a nanny. And that is the role that fits you best, isn't it, Sarah?"  
  
And just when you thought you couldn't be any more pissed, she was. Her body twisted, and her fingers crinkled up, forming a hard poke to jab into the area that Toby was so fond of using. But it, too, had no effect, and he merely threw Sarah against the wall. Her head smashed forward, and it seemed that her brain had moved to meet the air at the back of her skull. Instead, once again she was in the darkness that surrounded her.  
  
Jareth followed the line of motion that the girl had made, and he didn't even react at the sickening sound that she made. Instead, he turned towards Toby, his lip curled back in the patented new-Jareth smirk. "You aren't taking him, Toby. I won't allow it."  
  
Toby's hand was cast to his brow in mock disbelief. "Oh, god help me. Jareth won't allow it. Let me just say in all honesty, I'm trembling in my Gucci boots." His hand was cast forward, an eerie blue light almost seeming to engulf it. "And how exactly are you going to stop me, Jareth? After all, I am the heir. I have the power here, not you. And even though you blocked me from what is rightfully mine, I fully intend to make up for it now. In abundance."  
  
"Really, and what are you going to do to stop me? All this power that you are whining about having. You don't even know the full tale. You aren't the all-powerful heir anymore. Lucas is. And he knows me. After the mistakes that I made with that idiot, Sarah, I wasn't about to do it again. I am your child's greatest friend and his only confidant. And you, my dear boy, are simply the father whom his mother hates and fears. So in turn he hates and fears you. No matter what you say now, you're stuck with always having me in your life. Lucas's dreams call to me even now..."  
  
Toby spoke through gritted teeth, glow-encrusted hand balling in the force that was rapidly loosening through his blood stream. "You're lying. Lee wouldn't let another man into her life. She loves me. And you may be what my boy thinks of as a father-figure now, but when we get to New York, that's all going to change."  
  
"Actually, it won't. We're not going anywhere." Lee had entered the room, her chin high. All of the demure, little girl inside of her had been steadily devoured by the heat that mere touch had sent through her body. What was left now was an angry, little minx who stood there, a gun in each hand. They were cocked and pointed at each man, or Fae, or thing, whatever they were laying claim to being at this moment. "You both talk to much, you know that? And I've been standing outside hearing every little word. No more lies now, I won't stand for it. Both of you are little pieces of shit, and I want you both out of my life and my son's life from now on."  
  
She advanced, the trembling not reaching the outstretched, leveled hands. And it couldn't mask the cold, murderous anger that had mirrored the look of her father's. She circled them, both man followed, almost making them appear a revolving solar system. Sarah started to stir, and Lee's glance was cast in that direction, causing Jareth to reach forward to attempt to wrench the gun from her fist.  
  
But she couldn't allow what little power she had left in the situation to slip from her grasp, so she pulled the trigger. The air around them went brilliant bright, then faded into a storm of crimson moisture. Blood had splattered her face and as she looked down, she could see that where Jareth's hand once was, was a gushing stump of charred flesh.  
  
The goblin king's face shifted, becoming a perfect mask of delicious pain. It looked more real then than the masks from ancient times. He screamed once, willing the flesh to grow back and it didn't. Sarah rolled over again, staring at the droplets that were covering her, and she wondered if she was the one whom the bullet had passed through. Jareth screamed in shock, cradling the stump with his whole hand. "What the hell is going on here?"  
  
Sarah responded, her face brilliant beyond the telltale white of the concussion she had. "You're mortal. As long as you're in this house, you're mortal. I'm willing to bet that you've eaten some of the Xanderfield root. Shows the stories are right, you fucking prick." A wince was made as she walked over to Lee. Her hand was forward for one of the guns. "Care to share the wealth?"  
  
Lee nodded, and the cold feel of the metal was pressed into Sarah's waiting palm, like a fortuneteller's. Both women turned their guns on the respective targets before Jareth looked at them, his body shaking. "What the hell are you talking about, bitch?!"  
  
Sarah leaned down, her fingers moving to that sweat-slicked brow. "Well, Jareth, in one of those old books I've read, they told a tale of the witch who had used Xanderfield to make a Fae mortal while he was in her grasp so he would teach her the use of magic. And when she was done, she killed him and then buried him in a field filled with the herb so he would never become himself again. Bet ya wish you had read up, don't you, you fucking prick?"  
  
The wounded Fae gritted his teeth, the good hand reaching for a lock of that indefinite shade before she took her fist and smashed it against that perfect white smile. He choked, coughing up blood into the mess that was already there. "Next time, I'm willing to bet you won't be so quick to dismiss the old tales. If there even is a next time."  
  
Jareth being taken care of in her eyes, she also turned the gun towards Toby, and the danger that he still represented. Lee was standing just out of reach, her gun level with the broadness of that silk-enrobed chest. The steel that enwrapped her spine was almost extraordinary as she glared at him. "You did this. You made me this way, you have no one else to blame for your actions."  
  
Toby shrugged, his face alight with that devil-may-care smile. "I like you this way, Lee. More of a challenge than that sulking bitch you were before. And what do you intend on doing to me? Tying me to a bed and having your wicked way with me? I'd let you, in fact, I would probably find it very... pleasurable. And then we'll leave one happy family."  
  
Sarah's eyes flashed at his words. "We aren't going anywhere with you. You are leaving here in a fucking body bag."  
  
"God, he's right. You are such a dumb bitch, Sarah. How do you intend on stopping me? I haven't eaten any of that damn root. I have all the power here. The only reason you two still have the guns are because I am letting you." He nodded and as if to prove his point, he waved his hand. The guns came to him as if he were calling a dog holding a steak. "I've been very lenient with you, but my patience only goes so far. Lee, go upstairs and get Lucas. It's time for us to leave this frozen, little piece of hell."  
  
But Lee wasn't done yet. She wasn't going to leave here with him. She would sooner die than be subjected to that half-life that he was promising with his very breath. She stood just before him and spoke in the quietest, most mild of tones. "I am not leaving here, Toby. You're going to have to shoot me in order for you to take our son out of this house."  
  
He sighed, the hand holding the gun coming to rest against his brow. "Well, Lee, if that's how you really feel..." The gun was leveled her way and he pulled the trigger.  
  
Her eyes widened and it seemed she could see the bullet as it glided over the air. But she wouldn't move and she wouldn't flinch. Her breath nearly stilled as she heard Sarah scream from behind her. "No! Toby, stop it!"  
  
But it wasn't her shout that rang through the air, slicing it with the very emotion that had been placed inside of it. Lucas had come into the room, his eyes wide at the sight of the little piece of steel that was flying towards the air at the speed of tomorrow. Lee twisted at the anguished cry of her son, and her body tried to go to him, to hide this horrible scene from his view. Her son ran forward, his hands held up to stop the bullet.  
  
And that little earnest voice rang out, full of desperation. "Stop!" And to everyone's surprise the bullet touched his outstretched hand, falling into powder as it reached his warm skin as if it was made of mere ice. Lee's eyes filled with tears as she looked towards Toby, grateful for nothing else then that he had spared her son from seeing what he was capable of.  
  
But his face was filled with the same blank astonishment that hers was.   
  
Toby looked down at the gun as if he was lost in a dream. But Lucas looked at him with all the hate of a child's heart. "It didn't work, and it won't hurt again. You will never hurt my mother again. I swear it, always and in dreams."  
  
Lee looked down to her son, stepping forward so that her hands rested on his right shoulder, as if flanking him for a battle. "And you will never come into my son's life to threaten him again. I swear it, always and in dreams."  
  
Sarah came forward, her voice husky with tears as she reached to place her hands on Lucas' left side. "And you will never again hurt my family." A look down was given to Lucas and then over to Lee. "Any of them. I swear it, always and in dreams."  
  
Toby's eyes widened, and his hand was placed to his head as if he was feeling something being sucked out. He looked down at Jareth who had gone very still. His voice was almost a hiss as he turned to look at the triangle that was before him, almost shining in pure light. "What the hell is going on here? What are they doing?"  
  
Jareth sounded very old as he looked at the people, knowing that he had to get to the Bog and fast. "What they have done is old magic, Toby. We are not a part of their lives now. They have bound us out."  
  
"What, how the hell can they do that?" He stepped forward to touch his son, but the light was a barrier through which he could not break. "What the hell is going on?!"  
  
"Old magic, boy. They bound us out of their lives, of Lucas's life with love. And it's unbreakable. As long as they still love we are cast out. Always and in dreams."  
  
"No! I will not let this be!" His fingers reached forward and he pounded against the light that had now spread from one solid pinpoint to three. The images of the figures in his sight blurred, and he couldn't barely hear the voices of the people he wanted.  
  
Lee's voice was the strongest and it was sliding away like a radio station losing the feed. "Come on, Lucas. Let's get you to bed now. The nightmares all over now. We can finally sleep peacefully."  
  
He didn't hear his son's reply, all he heard was the vast echo of nothingness as he sought them with his mind. Jareth had disappeared, leaving him to fight against the barrier. And his cry echoed into it, bouncing back a thousand times as if to mock him in his aloneness, the refusing to accept what was to be. "You will be mine, Lee! Always and in dreams!"  
  
The End  
  
Finished December the thirtieth two-thousand-one.  
11:00 PM.  
  



	9. Epiloge

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End file.
